Their daughter had learned how to stand.
Not properly.
She could pull herself up using the edge of the couch, balance for three or four seconds, and then fall backward with an expression of deep personal betrayal.
Paul considered this a serious problem.
-She needs better support.
Veronica looked up from the floor.
-She needs to fall.
-That's how they learn.
-That is not the point.
Their daughter gripped the couch again. Her knees shook beneath her, but she refused to sit down. One small hand slid across the cushion while the other reached toward Veronica.
-Mama, she said.
It was not a perfect word. It sounded more like "ma-ma," pressed through determination and a little frustration. Veronica's face softened. Paul leaned forward.
-Now say Papa.
Their daughter stared at him. Paul pointed at himself.
-Pa-pa.
The child turned toward Veronica.
-Mama.
Veronica smiled.
Paul looked offended.
-That is unfair.
-She has excellent judgment.
-She has not even considered the alternatives.
Their daughter released the couch. For one brief second, she stood alone. Paul's entire body tensed. Veronica raised one hand without looking at him.
-Don't.
-I'm not doing anything.
-You're preparing to catch her.
-She's going to fall.
-Let her fall. That's how she'll learn.
Their daughter took one uncertain step. Then another. Paul's hands moved instinctively. The child fell onto her knees.
She stared at the floor. For a moment, she looked more surprised than hurt. Then her face twisted, and she began to cry.
Paul was already moving. Veronica caught his wrist.
-She's fine.
-She fell.
- Paul, she's learning.
Paul looked at their daughter, who was now sitting on the floor with both hands pressed against her knees. Veronica crouched in front of her.
-Come here, my little soldier.
The child reached toward her. Veronica lifted her and kissed the side of her head. Paul remained standing.
-She could have hit her head.
-But she didn't.
-She could have.
-She didn't.
-That doesn't make the possibility disappear.
Veronica looked at him over their daughter's shoulder.
-You can't keep removing every dangerous surface from the world.
-I can remove dangerous ones.
-She fell two inches.
-Two inches is still a distance.
He paused.
-A big one.
Veronica smiled despite herself.
-You are going to be impossible when she starts school.
-She is not going to school.
-She is eventually going to school.
-We can teach her at home.
-Paul.
-I'm joking.
-I don't think you are.
He looked at their daughter. She had stopped crying and was now chewing the collar of Veronica's shirt. Paul reached toward her. The child immediately turned away. Veronica laughed.
-Rejected again.
-No. She's just a bit tired.
-She prefers me.
Paul sighed and picked up the small wooden bird from the floor. He pressed the button. The toy chirped. Their daughter turned her head. Paul pressed it again. She reached for it.
-There, he said. -You see? She likes my gifts.
-She likes the noise.
-That is the beginning of appreciation.
Veronica handed him the child. Their daughter protested for exactly two seconds before settling against his chest. Paul looked down at her.
-See?
Veronica crossed her arms.
-She likes you too.
He tried not to smile. He failed.
Their daughter had been named Liora.
Veronica had chosen the name after finding it in an old book. Paul had asked what it meant, and she had told him that it was connected to light.
He had pretended to dislike it.
Then he had spent three nights researching possible meanings, origins, and alternate spellings before quietly agreeing that it was perfect. Now Liora rested against his chest, one hand curled around the collar of his shirt. Paul lowered his head.
-Hello, my baby girl.
She answered by biting his shoulder. Veronica laughed again. The call came while they were preparing lunch. Paul's communicator vibrated on the kitchen counter. He glanced at it, then at Veronica.
She was standing beside the table, cutting fruit into pieces small enough for Liora to handle. Their daughter sat in her high chair, smearing food across the tray with both hands.Paul picked up the communicator.
-Paul speaking.
Corlowall's voice came through.
-Report to Central Command.
Paul's expression changed.
-When?
-Immediately.
-What happened?
-An OPESTM transport convoy was attacked outside the western security district. Multiple casualties. We have an unidentified energy signature.
Paul looked toward the window.
-Civilian casualties?
-Unknown.
-Then why am I being called?
-Because the signature resembles the one recorded during the Africa incident.
Paul said nothing.
Corlowall continued.
-Veronica has been assigned as well.
Paul looked at her.
She had heard enough to understand.
-Tell me what you need, Paul said.
-Your presence. Now.
The call ended. Liora slapped both hands against the tray. Veronica looked at Paul.
-How bad?
-Unknown.
-That usually means bad.
-Corlowall said the signature resembles the weapon detonated during the Africa incident.
Veronica stopped cutting. For a moment, the kitchen became smaller. Liora picked up a piece of fruit and dropped it onto the floor. Paul watched it fall.
-I'll go, he said.
Veronica looked at him.
-We'll go.
-No.
Her eyes narrowed.
-No?
-I'll handle it. You stay here.
-Why?
-Because she's here. You don't have to come.
-But I was summoned.
Paul placed the communicator on the table.
-Veronica.
-Don't use that tone.
-What tone?
-The one that means you've already made a decision and are pretending to discuss it.
Paul glanced at Liora.
-She needs one of us.
-Then we decide who stays.
-I'll stay.
Veronica looked at him.
He continued quickly.
-You're better at field analysis. If the signature is connected to the Africa incident, you'll be more useful there.
-That's a convenient argument.
-It's also true.
-You're a Super Soldier.
-And you're one too.
-That's not the point.
-Then what is?
Veronica put the knife down.
-The point is that you don't get to turn this into your responsibility because you're afraid to leave her.
Paul's jaw tightened.
-I'm not afraid.
-Then stop acting like it.
Liora made a small impatient noise. Both of them looked at her. Veronica lowered her voice.
-We have a secured childcare arrangement. Her caretaker is approved. The apartment is protected. The building has emergency evacuation protocols.
Paul said nothing.
-You helped design half of those systems, Veronica added.
-That doesn't mean they're perfect.
-No. It means they're the best protection we have.
Paul looked at Liora again. She was now holding another piece of fruit and staring at him with complete seriousness. He wanted to stay. He wanted to take her somewhere no enemy could reach. Somewhere outside every war, every order, and every threat. He wanted to make the world smaller until it contained only their apartment and the people inside it.
But Corlowall's call remained in his mind.
Unidentified energy. Civilian casualties. Paul picked up the communicator.
-I'll report to Central Command.
Veronica nodded once.
-I'll get ready.
Neither of them said anything about who would return first. The emergency was worse than the first report suggested.
The western security district had not been attacked directly. The convoy had been transporting equipment between two OPESTM facilities when the energy signature appeared beneath the road.
The ground had split open. Three vehicles had been thrown into the air. A fourth had disappeared completely. The energy did not behave like an explosion.
It moved in a narrow, vertical column, bright enough to turn the surrounding buildings white. It lasted less than twenty seconds. Then it vanished.
Paul and Veronica arrived separately.
Corlowall stood beside a damaged command vehicle, speaking with several officers. Smoke drifted between the buildings. Emergency crews moved through the wreckage.
Paul landed beside him.
-Status?
-Seven dead. Fourteen injured.
-Civilians?
-Two confirmed dead. More may be trapped.
Paul looked at the ruined street.
-Where's Veronica?
-Already inside.
He turned toward the collapsed structure. Corlowall caught his arm.
-Paul.
-What?
-This wasn't a normal attack.
-I can see that.
-The energy readings changed three times before the rupture.
-Then we investigate after the rescue.
Corlowall held his gaze.
-Do not go in alone.
Paul pulled his arm free.
-I'm not alone.
He moved before Corlowall could answer. Inside the building, the air was thick with dust and burning insulation. Veronica was already lifting a concrete beam away from a trapped officer.
-Move, she ordered.
Paul stepped beside her. Together, they raised the beam and dragged the injured man free. The officer was barely conscious. Veronica pressed two fingers against his neck.
-Still alive.
Paul looked deeper into the building.
-Any children?
Veronica looked at him.
-No.
He nodded and turned away. His communicator vibrated. A message appeared.
SECURITY DISTRICT RESIDENTIAL BLOCK: PARTIAL EVACUATION IN PROGRESS.
Paul stared at the words. The residential block was connected to the same security network as their apartment building. His mind went immediately to Liora.
He opened the message. The screen flickered. Then another alert appeared.
COMMUNICATION INTERRUPTION: WESTERN RESIDENTIAL GRID.
Paul called home. No answer. He tried again.
Nothing.
Veronica noticed his expression.
-What happened?
Paul was already moving.
-Paul?
He ran through the broken entrance.
-Paul!
He did not stop. His body moved before thought could catch up. The world blurred around him.
He crossed the street in less than a second, electricity flashing beneath his skin as his nervous system accelerated beyond ordinary human limits. Blue-white sparks snapped from his fingers and vanished against the dust-filled air.
A fallen vehicle blocked the road. Paul struck it with one hand.
A violent burst of electricity surged through the metal. The vehicle jerked sideways, its damaged systems briefly coming alive before it crashed against the remains of a wall.
Paul was already gone.
He reached the residential building and found the main entrance sealed beneath a collapsed section of concrete. Emergency lights flashed across the street. People were being carried out through a side passage.
He searched the crowd. He did not see their caretaker. He did not see Liora. A medic grabbed his arm.
-Sir, you can't enter from here.
Paul turned.
-Where is the childcare unit?
-Which unit?
-Apartment Block C. Level four.
The medic looked toward the building.
-That section hasn't been cleared.
-Then clear it.
-We're trying.
Paul moved toward the rubble. A security officer stepped in front of him.
-Sir, the structure is unstable.
Paul looked at the concrete wall. Then at the officer.
-Move.
-Sir….
-Move.
The officer stepped aside. Paul drove his hands into the collapsed entrance and lifted. The concrete groaned. Dust fell around him. He pushed harder.
Electricity spread across his arms, crawling beneath his skin in sharp blue lines. The rubble trembled as his strength increased. Pieces of broken metal rose from the ground and hung in the air for a moment, pulled by the force of the electrical field surrounding him.
Behind the rubble, something metallic snapped. A warning siren began to scream.
-Stop! someone shouted. -The upper floor is shifting!
Paul did not stop. He could lift the entire structure. He had lifted heavier things. He had survived worse. He only needed to reach her.
The building shifted. A section of the ceiling collapsed behind him. Paul forced the passage open and entered. The corridor was dark. Emergency lights flashed along the walls.
He called her name. Not Veronica. Liora.
He called the child's name again. And again. Louder each time.
No answer.
He reached the apartment. The door had been blown inward. Inside, furniture was scattered across the floor. The windows were gone. The air smelled of dust and hot metal.
The crib was overturned. Paul stopped. For one second, he could not move. Then he crossed the room. The caretaker was lying near the wall, unconscious but breathing. Paul lifted her aside.
-Where is she?
The woman's eyes opened weakly.
-Sir…
-Where is my daughter?
The caretaker tried to speak. Paul shook her shoulder.
-Where is she?
-She was… in the safe room…
Paul turned toward the hallway. The safe-room door had been crushed beneath a slab of concrete.
He reached it. His fingers found the edge. He pulled. The slab did not move. Paul planted both feet against the floor and pushed with all his strength.
Electricity burst from his body. The lights along the corridor exploded one after another. A sharp crack split the air. The concrete shifted. A narrow opening appeared.
-Stay back! a voice shouted behind him.
Paul ignored it. He widened the gap. Dust poured through.
Then he saw the small blanket. It was caught beneath the broken door.
The blanket was pink. Liora's favorite. Paul's hand trembled. He pulled the door away. The room beyond was small and dark. There were two bodies inside.
The caretaker's assistant lay motionless near the wall.
Liora was beneath her. Paul reached for the child.
-No.
The word left his mouth before he understood why.
He lifted her carefully. Her head rested against his arm. Her eyes were closed. Her body was still. Paul pressed two fingers against her neck.
Nothing.
He checked again. Then again.
-No.
He placed one hand against her chest.
-Come on.
He began compressions. The room filled with shouting, but he heard none of it.
-Come on.
He breathed for her. Pressed against her chest. Counted. Stopped. Started again.
A medic entered and tried to take over. Paul pushed him away.
-She's not breathing.
-We need to….
-She's not breathing.
The medic knelt beside him.
-Sir, let us…
Paul held Liora tighter.
-I can fix this.
The medic froze. Paul pressed his hand against her chest again.
-I can fix this.
The words became faster.
-I can fix this. I can fix this.
Electricity flickered across his palm. A weak current passed into the child's chest. Her body did not move.
Paul tried again.
The current was stronger this time. The lights above them flashed. Liora remained still. The medic looked toward the entrance. Two more medical officers entered.
One of them checked the child's pulse. His expression changed. Paul saw it. He saw the answer before the officer spoke.
-No, Paul said.
The officer lowered his eyes. Paul looked down at his daughter.
She was so small. Too small.
She had been crying that morning because she fell two inches. He had told her she was fine. He had told her he would catch her. Now he could not make her breathe.
-Try again, Paul said.
The medic did not move.
-Try again!
Paul's voice shook the room.
-We need to transport her, one officer said quietly.
-To where?
-Central Medical.
-Then take her.
The officer hesitated. Paul looked at him.
-TAKE HER!
They lifted Liora from his arms. Paul resisted for half a second. Then he let go. The blanket remained in his hands. He did not remember picking it up.
The medical team worked for seventeen minutes. Paul stood outside the room. He did not sit. He did not speak.
Electricity continued to flicker weakly around his fingers. Every few seconds, a spark jumped from his hand to the metal railing beside him.
He did not seem to notice. Veronica arrived during the ninth minute. She had blood on her uniform and dust across her face.
-Where is she?
Paul looked at her. Veronica's eyes moved toward the closed medical door.
-Paul.
He said nothing. She stepped closer.
-Where is our daughter?
Paul opened his mouth. No words came out. Veronica pushed past him. A medical officer stopped her.
-Ma'am….
-Move.
-We're still working.
-Move.
The officer stepped aside. Veronica entered. Paul remained outside. He could hear the equipment. The hurried footsteps. The instructions. Then the room became quiet. Not completely.
There were still machines. Still voices. But the urgency had disappeared. Veronica came out several minutes later.
She looked at Paul. He was holding the pink blanket. Her face broke.
-No, she whispered.
Paul looked down at the blanket.
-She was in the safe room.
Veronica covered her mouth.
-The system failed, he said.
She shook her head.
-The emergency door didn't seal.
-She was supposed to be protected.
-Paul...
-The door didn't seal.
Veronica's eyes filled.
-I know.
-You said the system was secure.
She stared at him. Paul's voice remained strangely calm.
-You said she was safe.
Veronica stepped closer.
-I thought she was.
-You told me.
-I know what I told you.
-You said the building had emergency protocols.
-It did.
-You said the caretaker was trained.
-She was.
-Then how did this happen?
Veronica looked toward the medical room. Her lips trembled.
-I don't know.
Paul laughed once. There was no humor in it.
-You don't know.
-Paul, please.
-You checked everything.
-I checked what I could.
-You were the one who approved the arrangement.
-So did you.
Paul looked at her. Veronica seemed to regret the words as soon as they left her mouth. But she did not take them back.
-You approved it too, she repeated.
Paul looked away. His fingers tightened around the blanket.
-I wasn't there.
Veronica closed her eyes. Neither was I, her expression seemed to say. But she did not speak. Paul looked at the closed medical door.
-I should have stayed.
Veronica's voice was barely audible.
-We both should have.
He turned toward her. The sentence struck him harder than anything else had.
-We both should have? he repeated.
Veronica looked at him. Her face was pale and wet with tears.
-I didn't mean….
-You were the one who said the arrangement was safe.
-And you agreed.
-I trusted you.
Veronica went still. Paul immediately knew the words had wounded her. But he could not stop.
-I trusted you to protect her.
Veronica stared at him. Then she whispered:
-You think I didn't want to?
Paul's grip tightened.
-You should have known.
The corridor seemed to lose all sound. Veronica looked at him as if she no longer recognized the person standing in front of her.
-I should have known what?
-That something could happen.
-Something happened to both of us.
-You weren't there.
-Neither were you.
-I was dealing with the attack.
-So was I.
-You could have stayed.
-So could you.
Paul's face twisted. He wanted to deny it. He wanted to tell her that his duty had been different, that Corlowall had called him first, that the attack had required him.
But none of those explanations mattered. Their daughter was dead. And Veronica was standing in front of him, alive.
His mind could not accept the unfairness of it.
-You were her mother, he said.
Veronica's expression changed. Not anger first. Pain.
Deep, immediate pain.
Then anger followed. The immense amount of pain, regret, anger grudge and most importantly helplessness was clearly visible on her face. She was not ready to be the one guilty for her precious daughter's death. And she should not.. With a helpless voice she whispered
-Don't.
-You were supposed to be with her.
-Don't do this.
-You should have been there.
-And you should have been there!
Her voice echoed down the corridor. Paul looked at her. Veronica pressed both hands against her face, trying to hold herself together.
-She was our daughter, she said. -Not mine alone.
Paul stared at her. With a shaky and tired voice he said,
-I know.
-No, you don't.
-I know.
-You're trying to find someone to blame because you can't accept that she's gone.
Paul's eyes hardened.
-I'm trying to understand.
-No. You're trying to punish someone.
He looked toward the medical room. The pink blanket hung from his hand. Veronica stepped closer.
-If you want to blame me, do it later. Blame me tomorrow. Blame me when you can say it without looking at me like I killed her.
Paul's breathing became uneven.
-I didn't say that.
-You didn't have to.
He looked at her. For a moment, he wanted to reach for her. He wanted her to hold him.
He wanted to be the man she had married, the man who had carried Liora through the apartment, the man who had promised that nothing would happen.
But all he could see was the empty room.
The overturned crib. The broken door. The blanket in his hand.
-I trusted you, he said again.
Veronica's face collapsed. She looked away.
-Then maybe you should have trusted yourself.
She walked past him. Paul did not stop her. He returned to the apartment after midnight.
The building was still under emergency restrictions, but OPESTM clearance allowed him through.
The lights inside were on. Nothing had been cleaned. A small piece of fruit lay beneath the kitchen table. One of Liora's socks rested beside the couch. The wooden bird was on the floor.
Paul picked it up. His thumb pressed the button.
The bird chirped. He waited. For a second, he expected to hear Liora laugh from the living room.
He pressed the button again. The bird chirped. Paul looked toward the hallway.
-Come on, he whispered.
Nothing answered. He sat on the floor beside the couch, holding the toy in both hands. The apartment was full of things that still belonged to her.
Her clothes. Her blanket. Her unfinished food. Her little shoes. All of them remained exactly where she had left them.
Only she was missing. Paul pressed the button one more time.
The bird chirped. He waited for the sound of her laughter.
It never came.
Outside the apartment, somewhere beyond the broken residential district, emergency sirens continued to echo through the city. Paul sat beneath the quiet lights.
For the first time in his life, his power had failed him.
And he had no one left to fight.
-To be continued....