In this cruel world, those who still have a mother's protective embrace hold the greatest blessing there is.
The door creaked open… and there she was.
"Mom…"
I froze, unable to move, just staring at her face — the face I hadn't seen in so long. Her beauty was still there, though the years had etched their marks.
"Troy?" she asked, disbelief in her voice.
A lump swelled in my throat. My eyes filled with tears, and I rushed forward, wrapping her in my arms.
"Oh, Mom… I missed you so much… Mom…"
I had survived battles, witnessed tragedies day after day, but none of that mattered in that moment. Standing before me was my mother — the last pure blood connection I had left. The only person who would stand by me even if the whole world turned against me.
After a few minutes, she invited us in. Her gaze lingered on me, as if searching for something in my face.
"Is something wrong, Mom?" I asked.
"No… nothing. It's just… you look exactly like your father, a perfect copy." Her eyes softened with nostalgia. "And it seems you've brought your girlfriend with you."
I felt my cheeks heat, but before I could respond, she added:
"There's nothing to be embarrassed about, son. It's normal… you should enjoy every moment you can."
My mother and Herlin sat at the table, sipping tea and chatting.
"You're a very attractive young woman," she told Herlin. "I'm glad my son caught you in time." She laughed gently.
While they talked, my eyes wandered through the house. Old photos, frozen memories… until I spotted a frame: my brother, my father, and me.
"Dad… Azrael…"
"Troy, come here," my mother called.
I sat beside them.
"What brings you here? Is something wrong?" she asked.
"No, no. I just… had some free time and wanted to see you."
It didn't feel right that the only time I came should be to bring her bad news.
"Oh… you know? I recently got a letter from your brother."
I stared at her, stunned.
"Azrael? When?"
"About three months ago. Give me a second, I'll find it."
Herlin whispered to me, "I thought your brother was dead?"
"Shhh… I don't know. But let's not worry Mom."
My mother returned with several envelopes in her hands.
"Looks like I brought them all."
"All of these are from Azrael?" I asked.
"Most of them." She handed me one. "This is the last one I received."
I opened it.
Date: July 11, 2030 Hi Mom, I'm fine. Things have gotten a bit complicated, but nothing I can't handle. There was a sudden attack and the letters you sent me were burned… a real shame. I hope this all ends soon. They told me I might be able to come home after this. I probably won't have enough time or means to write again for a while, but I promise I'll be back. I love you, Mom. —Azrael
It was a battlefield he described. I was relieved he was still alive — at least, at that moment. But the date chilled me: one day before the attack during the elections.
"Do you know where he was?" I asked.
"No, son… but I still hope he'll come back."
Her expression turned sad, wistful.
"It feels like yesterday we were all together at home. First your father… then your brother… you're all I have left. When will it all end?"
I didn't want to hurt her, but I had to ask:
"Mom… do you know anything about Dad's death?"
She took her time before answering.
"Your father… died… for the government."
"Fighting for them… or against them?"
"He died helping them."
Something about her tone unsettled me.
"Mom… if you know the truth, I'd like you to tell me."
"That is… the truth."
I didn't push further.
"Did you hear about the disaster in Aroa?"
"I don't watch the news… but yes. Poor people."
"I was there." I took a deep breath. "It wasn't pretty… and it was worse when you realize the government can abandon you in the middle of a crisis."
"What do you mean?"
"The government isn't what it seems, Mom. It abandons its own. Frederick and his squad went to help… but no one else did."
She stayed silent.
"Even inside Aroa, there were sectors that let their people die. Sector 4 helped everyone… but Sector 5, where the elite live, didn't lift a finger. I saw people who had no obligation to fight step up… Life isn't what I imagined when I joined."
She looked at me with an expression I couldn't read.
"You sound just like your father…"
That caught me off guard.
"I thought Dad admired the government?"
She didn't answer. Instead, she left the room. I glanced at Herlin.
"Did I say something wrong?"
My mother returned with a small stack of papers.
"These are your father's old notes… Read them when you're alone… and don't let anyone else see them. For your safety."
She also pulled out some photos and showed them to Herlin.
"Look, this was Troy's father. Aren't they identical?"
"Oh, yes… they're almost the same," Herlin said. "Where did he serve?"
"He was with the Rangers too," Mom said, "but he wasn't known for his strength. His specialty was analyzing situations."
Another photo — my father holding me in his arms.
"This was when Troy was three years old, and he'd put on his father's hats."
Another one.
"And here… the last birthday he spent with us. Troy had just turned twelve."
I noticed in that picture my father looked different… worn down.
"I think it's time for you to go, son," Mom said suddenly.
"I'm not in a rush."
"I'm your mother, I know why I'm saying this. Please… write more often."
We stood, and she walked us to the door. She hugged me tightly.
"Look at you, son… I never thought you'd make it to such a high rank. Your father always believed in you."
"Mom…"
She turned to Herlin.
"I hope you're happy together, and remember to visit this old lady from time to time." She laughed.
"Thank you, ma'am," Herlin replied. "I'll try to bring Troy more often."
"Troy, stay out of trouble…" were her last words before I walked away.
As we left, my mother's figure slowly disappeared in the doorway… and with it, a flood of memories: laughter, games, birthdays, Christmases…
I have to find out what happened to all of it.
"Everything okay?" Herlin asked.
"I need your help with something when we get back."
Once in my room, I pulled the bundle of letters from my bag. I began organizing them by date when a phone rang. It was Herlin's.
"Yes… I'll be right there." She hung up. "I'll help you later, the Section needs me. Good luck."
I was alone now. Time to read.
Azrael's letters were filled with battles, radiation-dead zones, and — more than anything — a growing hatred for the government.
Then I moved on to my father's.
With the fall of the UN and the loss of U.S. power, the world has gone back to the days of imperialism: everyone against everyone. Russia trying to conquer Ukraine and the Baltic states, Israel seeking to annex Gaza and Syria… Venezuela invading Suriname and Guyana. I don't know how it will end, but I'm certain nuclear war will go on for a long time.
The government is running out of supplies after invading other regions and helping Colombia conquer Panama. Looks like we're about to sell ourselves to the Russians.
Today, the government announced its alliance with Russia. Now it stands as the most powerful nation in the Americas. Russia calls the shots.
The country's dictator has died. Elections will be held.
They've announced Earth's air is no longer breathable. Expected, given the pollution.
New wave of nuclear bombings between Russia and China.
The Americas — the continent least affected by radiation.
Animal mutations due to radiation have wiped out the population of Austria and Bosnia. The survivors abandoned it to its fate.
One letter was badly damaged… almost unreadable. Hours passed. I had more questions than answers.
I didn't know who to turn to… or maybe I did.
Frederick...