He slowly opened his eyes, the scene was just a white. Wasn't he in Heaven? He had died at the hands of a dangerous Manus Vindictae? He didn't know if he could accept this fact right now. He stood up and looked around.

The white scene gradually changed, everything gradually appeared before his eyes, was it all just a strange hallucination? He saw the image of a boy around 6 years old wearing the uniform of a student of SPDM (School of Primary Defense of Mankind)

The boy had no clear face, just walked back and forth, with strange steel wires wrapped around his wrists, legs, and head, looking no different from a puppet and a little scary. Even when his hands were loose, the wires continued to move, pulling the puppet to repeat an action, which was to always walk and step in unison like a soldier following orders.

The puppet walked until its tiny wooden feet were about to fall off, when its arms became limp as if they were about to fall off its small, emaciated body. The clattering sounds of the wooden pieces against each other grew louder as its body gradually wore out.

Anatole couldn't utter a word, but as if something was urging him, he ran as fast as he could to the puppet and used all his strength to break the steel wires. It was so hard that he didn't know how, but he still tried to break it, even with the slightest hope of breaking the strings. But it didn't matter, the puppet was still being controlled and still couldn't stop its actions.

He pondered, not knowing what else to do. Suddenly, behind the puppet appeared a large clock about a 5 feet tall. It still displayed the numbers from 1 to 12 and three hands for hours, minutes, and seconds.

The current time was 10:43, and the clock still displayed the same time as in real life. It kept running and running like time, unable to stop.

He was still staring blankly at the strange clock. Then suddenly a strange voice rang out.

"Cherish your happiness, and give up the things you think are the most troublesome. You have always wanted to do that, right?" [???]

"Who is it?" [Anatole]

Anatole looked around in panic but saw no one. But then when he looked back at the watch, he went around and checked the back of it, one number was "2003", he looked at it for a long time, then it was as if he understood something.

He knew what he had to do, he grabbed the knob on top of the clock, he turned it back, the clock hands kept turning back and forth, suddenly more and more appeared around, many other clocks were also turning back in time like the clock he was turning, until he felt it was time to stop, he let go.

At this time, the puppet had changed a lot, its arms and feet no longer looked loose, it had acted strangely, its hands and feet were no longer loose, it was sitting under a tree with newspaper pages like leaves, sitting and reading a book leisurely.

The steel strings that controlled it had been replaced by thinner, lighter threads that couldn't even lift it up.

He gently walked over and sat beside it, he grabbed the threads and pulled them away. He lifted the puppet up and hugged it, the puppet then used its skinny hands to hug him.

He had embraced the very thing he treasured, an Anatole who lived as himself even if only for a moment that nothing could shake.

"I still want to live, I want to continue living this life! I don't want to die when I'm not myself!" [Anatole]

"No one has ever been able to resist death...but you have truly shown me how strong your will to live is...that's right, you will always be given a chance, death only comes when you refuse. Wake up Anatole, YOU ARE NOT DEAD!" [???]

That was when everything faded into white.

...

Anatole suddenly opened his eyes, he regained consciousness and sat up looking around. Father Nicholas came to help him sit up.

"Thank goodness, you're awake, haha" [Nicholas]

Anatole found himself lying on a bed, his stomach carefully bandaged.

"I'm not dead...?" [Anatole]

"Yeah, you're not dead, just injured. I didn't think you could survive such a strong blow." [Nicholas]

"You must be lucky...but where's the little girl!" [Anatole]

Father Nicholas silently handed him a glass of water.

"They took her away..." [Nicholas]

He had never seen his father so sad.

"I'm sorry, Father...I'm sorry." [Anatole]

"No, I should be the one apologizing to you, you have nothing to do with this anymore." [Nicholas]

"Father, don't say that, I'm worried about her too, right? And those damned Manus Vindictae..." [Anatole]

He saw that his father was still silent, unable to say anything more, there were still many things in his heart that were difficult to say. He felt that he needed to do something...

"Or, I'll help you find her?" [Anatole]

"What? But how? You can't fight them, it'll be too dangerous..." [Nicholas]

"It's okay, just think of it as me supporting you, as a thank you for helping me." [Anatole]

He really didn't know how to say it, but his father understood his intentions, and he didn't stop him anymore.

"I see, if you're so determined, then I'll follow you... I also have to get my daughter back from them!" [Nicholas]

"Do you really want to go with me?" [Anatole]

"It's better to have more teammates, right? I'm not afraid of danger." [Nicholas]

"Alright, if you say so, then I don't think I can stop you. Then let's do it together!" [Anatole]

The two of them bumped their hands. No words, no embellishments. But like brothers, when they have the same goal, nothing can stop them.

That bumping of hands, although just a small action, is a solidarity stronger than any iron in this world, when the determination is high.