The Bond That Even Gods Cannot Break

“Idiot! Idiot! Idiot!”

It was cold, uncomfortable, and painful.

Even trying to return to the entrance of the cave to escape the icy water, Sophia couldn’t find the way out. Now, without even a glimmer of light, it was impossible to see her own body.

“Melissa... idiot…”

Her voice was weak. Her throat ached, lacking the strength to shout, and her words came out muffled.

Forcing her body to cross the frozen lake, the girl felt her strength diminishing rapidly. After what seemed like hours of walking in darkness, the water, now above her waist, rendered her movements so stiff that she could go no further.

Her body, long exhausted, was being engulfed by darkness. When there was no strength left in her feet to take another step, Sophia fell into the water.

Her thoughts weren’t scattered, but her body no longer responded. A relentless headache plagued her, perhaps from the water filling her airways, or maybe from the cold.

Sophia never thought she would meet her end like this.

Death approached without scent, sound, or form.

She had experienced this once before, so she knew exactly what death felt like.

However, what she was feeling was different.

There was sound, a sharp, formless noise that emerged from what she thought was the impenetrable void bordering the end of her existence.

The girl felt heavy and uncomfortable; the noises reaching her mind were bothersome, making her want to cover her ears.

Yet, within that infinity of sounds, only one was clear to her.

(Please, don’t leave me here. Take me too.)

The familiar voice seemed to resonate within her mind as if sounds were written in her brain and read by her soul.

With all her strength, even though it was painful, Sophia forced her eyes open.

Her first thought was that her line of sight was low as if she were crouched on the ground.

Where am I?

As her vision adjusted, she realized that there were people's legs  walking in front of her. They talked and laughed while conversing with small children and handing out clothes and toys.

The brightness of the cheerful, silly smiles of those children, genuine to anyone, seemed to illuminate the room she finally recognized she was in.

What’s happening?

Her confused mind couldn’t comprehend. She wasn’t chained; her movements weren’t restricted, so why couldn’t she get up?

Sophia sat for a long time. The small barred window in the room made it clear how time passed, with the position and color of the sun's rays changing.

Adults and children came and went, but none approached her.

When daylight finally began to fade, the last of them left the room. Eventually, a tall woman walked through the door. Her face had no notable features beyond the heavy, cheap makeup smeared across it. Her indifferent gaze swept the room, and when their eyes met, she frowned.

“You didn’t get a family again? Honestly, did you even try talking to them?”

Sophia’s mind went blank.

What is she talking about?

“If there’s anything left from lunch, eat it. If not, go straight to bed. I’ll be busy tonight.”

With just those words, the woman left the room. The characteristic sound of a door locking echoed.

“Is there a problem?”

“It’s just that girl again.”

The muffled voice came from outside, and Sophia concluded that the woman who had just left was talking to someone.

“It’s not our fault she’s not chosen. Frankly, with a family history like hers, we only take care of her because the government pays well enough.”

“Haha, with a biological mother in prison and a father who drank himself to death, I don’t blame them for wanting to stay away from that kind of problem.”

After their conversation finally ended, Sophia felt her body rise without her doing anything.

Small, bare feet walked across the moldy wooden floor toward the tiny kitchen.

Carefully, a chair was dragged closer to the stove, and with great effort, the small child forced herself up onto the chair.

Unable to do anything but observe through those eyes, Sophia stared in shock as the girl looked at her reflection in the bottom of the empty pot.

Long brown hair spilled over her worn clothes, and two large amber eyes trembled slightly as the small child pondered what to do.

Her hands clenched around her stomach, and the girl jumped down from the chair. Keeping her gaze fixed on the wooden floor to avoid getting lost in the dark house, she walked into a secluded room.

Though there were several beds, everything was empty. Even late at night, there was no one else around. Crouching at the edge of a bed, the girl hugged her knees once more.

Beyond the faint sound of cars passing by, the only noise that could be heard was the girl's sobs as she tried to hold back her tears with all her might.

(Why? Why doesn’t anyone want me?)

Those words came straight from her heart. The crying girl dared not voice her sorrows to the world. She knew that no one would hear those words, even if they were spoken, but unknowingly, they were heard by someone.

No, it can’t be this...

Thoughts filled with sorrow seemed to open a hole in Sophia’s chest, scratching at her core. The voice that once again resonated in her mind was unmistakable.

Melissa!

However, no matter how many times she shouted, her voice never reached the weeping child in the dirty, dark, and empty room.

Is this the orphanage where she grew up? She can’t be more than six years old. Why isn’t there a caretaker watching over her?

As she sank into doubt, Sophia could only live as a spectator.

It was like being trapped in a glass bubble, observing the bustling life around her without ever being able to intervene. With only Melissa’s eyes as her window to the world, the girl watched situations change.

She saw how children periodically entered the orphanage, becoming a family for Melissa. The brief bonds they formed soon shattered when the adoption day arrived, leaving her alone once more.

The girl who had never been taught to cook had to learn to use knives and pots on her own. The girl who had never received an allowance had to do jobs for the neighbors to buy her own school supplies.

A baby’s cry echoed.

They were in the same room where she had sat before, but now surrounded by four other children.

“Meli, it’s cold…”

“Big sister…”

The trembling voices came from blue-tinged lips.

With only a thin layer of clothing, the four children huddled around Melissa.

“It’s okay, I’ll light the fireplace, and everything will be fine.”

Melissa had never kept track of her age properly, but Sophia knew she must have been around ten or eleven now.

(What do I do? Damn, what do I do?)

Sophia could only watch as Melissa frantically explored the kitchen.

Her slightly bluish fingers tried to use the lighter to ignite a small flame, but the old lighter wouldn’t create fire, no matter how hard she tried.

(Why? Why isn’t it working?)

Melissa glanced at the stove, but that was useless too. She knew the caretakers turned off the gas supply from outside the orphanage every day.

(The attic window doesn’t have bars. I could climb out to light it. No, the adults cut the branches I used to climb down.)

It was cold, and Sophia felt the biting chill spreading across her skin, slowly numbing her movements. Yet, her heart knew that wasn’t what worried Melissa.

“Meli…”

The weak voice made Melissa dash back to the large room, where the four children huddled around the small baby, struggling to stay warm.

(I don’t have time! If I can’t manage this, they… they will…)

Sophia’s heart couldn’t bear to hear that. The situation unfolded beyond her control, beyond any chance of intervention. Such a weight should never have been placed on the shoulders of a small child.

Sophia noticed how Melissa’s eyes grew hazy as she rushed back to the room. Her small hands tore large pieces of rotten wood from her bed before darting toward the fireplace.

Her body ached from the cold, but biting her lips, she forced herself to act.

Sophia could see that Melissa only had a vague idea of what to do. She didn’t know how to turn branches into a fire. However, knowing this was her last and only option, she persevered, regardless of how many times she failed.

Her sore fingers burned from the friction, and small splinters pierced her skin, but the girl kept going without stopping.

(Please, please, please…)

Just when her fingers were swollen and tiny streams of blood were running down, the first spark ignited. Desperately, the girl blew on the small flame, wishing with all her might that it wouldn’t go out.

Almost losing hope, Sophia felt relief when the tiny flame grew and a fire was lit. All the children desperately gathered around the fire to warm themselves.

The long, freezing night was overcome, but that didn’t mean the same events wouldn’t repeat themselves.

How many times did the caretakers forget or simply not care to light the fireplace?

How many times did they leave the children alone to spend the money they received?

How many times did Melissa have to care for the sick little ones without help?

Sophia knew the answers to these questions, but as a spectator of Melissa's life, she could not change what she had endured.

The memories she witnessed lacked a precise pattern. Sometimes she saw weeks, and then an entire month was skipped. There were moments when she observed a year, with only a week passed over.

Her heart no longer felt real, but Sophia could feel it breaking. It wasn’t as if it were being sliced by knives or pierced by a bullet. It was as if every day, a small piece of it was silently ripped away.

When the next vision came, Sophia could see the steam from the hot water filling the room. Over the more than ten years, this was something Sophia rarely saw.

Melissa always took the last shower, so there was rarely any hot water left for her.

Melissa slowly emerged from the shower, strands of brown hair falling from her hand.

When she looked at herself in the mirror, Sophia noticed how Melissa’s brown hair had grown past her shoulder blades. It had been just below her ears the last time Sophia had followed her, so at least a few months had passed.

Without any kind of cream or moisturizer, keeping her hair healthy and preventing strands from falling out constantly became more challenging as its length increased.

(Maybe it is impossible to keep it long.)

Melissa’s thoughts resonated in Sophia’s mind. The girl showed no expression reflected in her empty face as she took scissors from the drawer and began to trim the ends. The lack of any technique left her hair with uneven lengths, making the short style look messy no matter how she tried to comb it.

(Once again, I am the last one left.)

When Melissa left the bathroom, the orphanage welcomed her with silence, devoid of children. As her eyes turned to the entrance, the same caretaker as always met her gaze as she stepped through the front door.

“It was very hard to get that scholarship. Don’t ruin everything.”

After saying this, she didn’t even look back before leaving.

(You only care about this because you’ll earn a bonus for these three years.)

Going to her empty room, Melissa began putting on her white uniform with a black skirt. A red hoodie covered her modest chest, and long white socks were pulled up her legs. Locking the front door without saying goodbye to anyone, she walked alone through the city streets.

Without a bus, car, or bicycle, the girl walked for an hour under the blazing sun. When her steps finally halted, a massive two-meter wall stood before her. A set of three-story buildings loomed ahead, surrounded by a vast campus filled with gardens.

Sophia watched as Melissa stood at the gate of the private girls’ school, taking a deep breath before stepping forward.

She realized she had finally reached this moment. The time when Melissa Cosmos encountered Sophia Lantana.