Darkness.
Locki drifted in a dream—one he hadn't seen in years.
"I had no one… and then I had her. That old woman."
Her warm smile flashed before him.
"She wasn't related to me. She just found me dying from hunger… and she lifted me out of death. She made me part of her family. She had a granddaughter my age, and the three of us… we were a real family. I never felt like an outsider."
His voice trembled.
"But that day… everything shattered."
Heavy rain poured like the sky itself was crying.
Little Locki stood frozen, staring at the old woman—his grandmother in all but blood—her entire body covered in knife wounds.
Tears mixed with the falling rain as he dropped to his knees beside her.
"Don't leave me," Locki begged, his tiny voice cracking.
"Please… please don't leave me. Take me with you… I have no one but you two. You promised… you always promised you'd stay. You wanted to see me marry your granddaughter. We're getting married—please stay alive—"
The old woman trembled, using the last of her strength to wipe his tears.
"My child…" she whispered. "No matter what… you will always be my son. And you will always be my granddaughter's husband."
Her breath grew shallow.
"This old woman's time has come… I say my goodbye to you. Take care of her. And don't cry… men should be strong. It's only an old woman dying… nothing worth your tears."
Her hand slipped from his face.
She was gone.
Little Locki screamed, "NOOOOO!"
His cries tore through the storm.
He punched the ground—once.
Twice.
L
Again.
"WHY?! WHY US?! WHY HER?! Why someone who was like a mother to me?!"
He collapsed over her body, trying to shield her from the rain, even though she could feel nothing now.
Locki's tears dripped onto her lifeless, peaceful face.
"Please wake up… please…"
His voice broke completely.
"That day," Locki's adult voice echoed in the dream, "I lost someone dearest to me. But I still had her granddaughter—the girl I grew up with. We were close. And Grandma blessed our future together."
He exhaled shakily.
"She always talked about our marriage… our children. She wanted to live long enough to see it. But God had other plans."
The dream shifted—flashes of the past.
"Because of Foster's demonic experiments… my Grandma died. I didn't know it back then. Later, my real grandfather found me. He welcomed my wife as his own, grateful for what Grandma did."
"As her final wish, everyone accepted our marriage. And we did get married… and lived a normal, peaceful life. I loved her more than anything."
His voice darkened.
"But one day, my real grandfather was dying. He told me about Scars, about Foster… and handed me an envelope."
'Foster is after this,' he had said.
'Protect it.'
"My wife… she wasn't just gentle. She was strong—stronger than me in many ways. Strong-minded. Strong-willed. She never backed down when it came to protecting people. Protecting what's right."
An image of Locki's wife in her police uniform, confident and radiant came in his view
"She became a police officer months before my grandfather gave me that envelope. She wanted to help people… the same way her grandmother helped me. She said it was her way of repaying the world."
His voice cracked slightly.
"She knew everything about me—the envelope, my past, my scars. And I knew everything about her. There were no secrets between us. We grew up together. We healed each other. She wanted to end Foster once and for all and she did to some extent."
Raindrops turned into dream-silhouettes, showing her smiling beside him.
"When she died… it wasn't just losing my wife. I lost the last piece of my childhood. My family. My light."
He inhaled shakily.
"She carried the will to protect the weak… and when she died, I picked up that will. It became my reason to join the Police. It became my reason to destroy Foster."
Her fading silhouette touched his cheek one last time.
"She was everything to me."
"The day my wife died. They called it an accident, but I knew better."
Locki saw himself kneeling beside another grave.
"I searched for answers. Found nothing. But in my heart, I knew Foster was behind it."
He clenched his fists.
"I looked at the envelope… and wondered first grandma, then my wife and now my real grandfather, why people always hand me their precious things to protect. Why me? Why not someone stronger?"
He lowered his head.
"Sometimes I think… maybe if I wasn't born… they'd still be alive."
He swallowed hard.
"That day, I swore I would destroy Foster. I became head of the Police. And I buried that envelope beside my wife's grave. No one knows where her grave is. No one except me."
Locki's eyes snapped open.
He was in the same graveyard.
Tears streaked down his cheeks. He wiped them away slowly.
"It's been a long time… since I've seen that dream."
He stood, his wounds mysteriously healed.
His gaze hardened—filled with a fire that had been sleeping for years.
"Now that I have everything on Foster… I won't stop. I will make him pay for what they did."
He whispered the names:
"My Grandma.
My wife.
My unborn child."
Then his voice turned cold.
"Just let me reach that place… and it all ends."
Locki smiled—dark, determined.
"You're dead, Foster."