The deeper Melinda went into Horizon's ruins, the colder the air became. The folder she had found pressed tightly against her side, its weight growing heavier with every hallway she entered. The underground section was mostly intact — untouched by the fire, sealed off from the outside world.
It felt wrong.
Too clean.
Too quiet.
Melinda's flashlight flickered across sterile white walls stained with age. The silence swallowed every breath, turning her steps into echoes stretching endlessly down the corridor.
Then she found it.
A heavy metal door at the very end of the hallway.
Scratched. Locked.
But not burned.
Melinda steadied her breath and pushed.
The door creaked open.
Inside was a small room — but unlike the others, this one still had power. A single fluorescent light hummed from above, casting a pale, eerie glow over everything.
And in the center of the room…
A glass tank.
Melinda stepped closer, heart pounding.
Inside floated a small figure curled gently like someone sleeping underwater.
A little girl.
She couldn't have been older than eight or nine. Her hair was pale pink, drifting softly in the water like delicate threads. Strange, feathery gill-like appendages fanned out gently from the sides of her head, glowing faintly with bioluminescent light. A tail rested behind her tiny form, swaying peacefully as if caught in a dream.
She looked so peaceful.
Too peaceful.
Melinda pressed her hand to the tank, whispering softly, "Sweetheart… what did they do to you?"
A small control panel blinked at the side. Most options were locked, but one stood out:
RELEASE — MANUAL OVERRIDE
Melinda hesitated only a moment before pulling the lever.
The water drained slowly, and the tank hissed open, warm mist escaping into the cold room. The little girl slid gently forward—and Melinda caught her before she could fall.
Her small body was warm, trembling, but alive.
"Hey… hey, it's okay," Melinda whispered, holding the sleeping child against her chest. "You're safe now. I've got you."
The girl's eyelids fluttered.
Then she opened her eyes.
Large, soft, and glowing with a gentle innocence Melinda had not seen in a long time.
The girl blinked slowly, looking confused—but not afraid. She tilted her head, as if studying Melinda's face.
Then the little girl smiled.
A pure, bright smile like she had never known fear at all.
"Oh…" Melinda breathed, her heart breaking a little. "You're just a baby."
The girl reached up with tiny fingers and touched Melinda's cheek—curious, gentle. A soft gurgle escaped her throat, like the first sound a newborn makes.
Melinda felt tears sting her eyes.
"You didn't deserve any of this."
She wrapped her coat around the small child and lifted her fully into her arms. The girl snuggled close immediately, tail curling loosely around Melinda's hip like an affectionate creature seeking warmth.
"Poor thing… you must be freezing."
Melinda carried her carefully out of the room, away from the tank, away from the cold memories of Horizon's cruelty.
Back at the car, she wrapped the girl in a warm blanket and searched her bag. She always kept spare clothes for emergencies — but never had she imagined needing them like this.
She chose the softest, warmest set she had.
The little girl watched with wide curious eyes as Melinda dressed her, not resisting at all. She blinked once when Melinda adjusted the sleeves, again when she fixed the bow on the front — and then smiled proudly as if delighted by her new outfit.
"You like it?" Melinda asked softly.
The girl nodded enthusiastically, a small happy chirping sound bubbling from her throat.
Melinda couldn't help but laugh, wiping a tear from her cheek.
"Alright then… let's get you somewhere safe."
She lifted the child into her arms again.
The girl wrapped her tiny hands around Melinda's neck and rested her head on her shoulder, trusting and warm.
Melinda swallowed the knot in her throat.
This wasn't just another case.
This wasn't just a lingering ghost or a lost soul.
This was a living child.
A child who had survived the unimaginable.
A child who shouldn't have existed at all.
But she was here.
And Melinda wouldn't let anyone take her away.
Not Horizon.
Not the government.
Not anyone.
"Don't worry," Melinda whispered, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of the girl's head.
"I'll protect you."
And for the first time since Miyu's death…
Melinda felt hope.