Kael sat on the steps, his bruised hands trembling. His sister, Lira, approached quietly, her small hand reaching for his. "Kael… why didn't you fight back harder?" Her voice was barely a whisper, filled with both worry and a child's innocent hope.
Kael looked down, swallowing the lump in his throat. "I'm sorry, Lira. I'm just… not strong enough yet." His voice cracked, revealing the shame he tried to hide.
Their mother, hearing the exchange, came out, wrapping her shawl around both children. "Strength isn't just about fists, Kael. It's about heart. And you have that in abundance." Her eyes glistened with tears she refused to shed.
Kael's father, sitting silently nearby, finally spoke, his voice rough with exhaustion. "We've all failed you, son. But maybe… maybe this system is the chance we've been waiting for." His words were heavy with hope and fear.
Kael's heart ached. He wanted to believe, but the weight of failure was suffocating. Yet, the system's glow in his vision was a beacon—a promise that maybe, just maybe, he could change.
After the fight, Kael sat on the ground, blood dripping from a split lip. Lira ran to him, tears streaming down her face. "Kael! You're hurt! Why did you fight them? You could have been killed!"
Kael forced a weak smile, wiping blood from his cheek. "I had to, Lira. If I don't stand up for you, who will?"
Their mother rushed over, pressing a cloth to his wounds. "You're reckless, Kael. But… I'm proud of you." Her voice trembled with a mixture of fear and pride.
Kael's eyes met his sister's. "I'm not reckless. I'm learning. For you. For all of us."
Lira nodded, her small hand gripping his. "I believe in you."
In that moment, Kael felt a fierce warmth—a tether to his family that steeled his resolve against the cold world.