"Head of the Family..."
"Yes, I know."
The man adjusted his gold-rimmed glasses, the obsidian wings behind his ears more striking against his solemn bishop's robes. A thick black tome rested in his hands.
"Survivors of the Kachi-Pei incident. Reborn beneath the Stellaron. The Twin Children of Order..."
After the orphanage director quietly departed, Gopph murmured to himself, gazing out the window. Perhaps this was the moment—the true beginning of the plan.
One day, Order would descend. But patience was required.
Seeds needed time to grow into trees. The Oak Bloodline had not reached its current prominence overnight. Young birds, too, must wait for their wings to strengthen before soaring into Order's embrace.
"Greetings."
Gopph's eyes met the trio at the door, his smile benevolent. "Welcome to the new world."
"Hello," Anming nodded slightly, uncomfortable in the tailored suit. He preferred looser clothing.
Anming and Sunday flanked Robin like monochrome sentinels, the girl blooming between them like a radiant flower.
Gopph's penetrating gaze swept over Sunday and Robin before settling on Anming. "I am Gopph, head of the Oak Bloodline. I've come to formalize your adoption."
"The tragedy of Kachi-Pei weighs heavily on my heart. Though we share Skyfolk blood, I could not shoulder your grief. This... is but a small gesture." His voice was sincere as he extended a hand. "Children, the Land of Dreams welcomes you. Within you lies the power to change the world."
"Let us embrace the Family's bosom and bask in Harmony's light."
"Mr. Gopph..." Sunday hesitated, sensing a transaction.
"I will give you everything. For instance..." Gopph's eyes gleamed. "That young lady's dream of the stage."
Sunday didn't care what became of himself. If Robin's dreams could be realized, he'd bargain with the devil himself.
"No."
Robin stepped forward. "It's our dream. We'll achieve it with our own strength."
Anming's gaze softened. His girl was ever this innocent, this kind. If possible... he wished she'd never know the world's filth.
An angel's wings shouldn't brush the mire.
"However you choose, the Family will assist," Gopph said, his focus returning to Anming. "What say you?"
"I will join the Family."
"Excellent."
Gopph nodded approvingly, his eyes glinting behind his glasses—a smile laden with meaning.
[Age 11]
Under Gopph's arrangement, you left Oak Orphanage for Penacony's Land of Dreams. As wards of the Oak Bloodline, you became the Family Head's special protégés.
Robin began professional training to become a star, while Sunday prepared for his role as her future manager.
"Enter."
The cultured voice beckoned. Anming pushed open the door to find Gopph seated on a leather sofa, adjusting his glasses.
"You've come. Sit."
"I'll stand, Family Head."
Anming remained still, his right sleeve empty.
"Have you tried the Reverie pools?"
"Yes."
"A pleasant dream?"
Gopph caught the subtext. "I wasn't mistaken... You are unique." A lie.
He only saw his younger self.
In dreams, Anming regained his lost arm. But dreams were just dreams—he refused to be imprisoned by illusions.
Some clung to dreams because reality was too cruel.
This unkind world needed Penacony's beautiful lies—brief respite for fate's forsaken.
"I want everyone to be happy," Anming said without irony. "What do you think, Family Head?"
Gopph drummed his fingers on the armrest. "Every era of Order requires Twin Children to walk its blessed path."
He sidestepped the question, weaving an allegory instead.
The truth crystallized: Robin and Sunday were but caged birds to this man—seeds of Order meant to grow into towering trees.
To become the next "Grandfather Oak."
Yet no tree could outgrow its cage.
"You think we're alike?" Anming skipped pointless questions like Why tell me this? Gopph had marked him from the start.
The fallen prodigy of Kachi-Pei. The would-be performer at the Grand Harmonic Festival. For three years, Anming's image had haunted newspapers—a one-armed boy haloed in light, standing sidelit by the sun like a deity.
"You would oppose Harmony?"
Now Anming sat, meeting Gopph's gaze.
Gopph shook his head. "Within Harmony, we cultivate Order." His razor-sharp eyes betrayed the gambit—one that could alter Penacony's fate.
The true Child of Order had arrived.
"If I refuse, you'll choose between Robin and Sunday. And that one... is doomed."
Gopph applauded. Astonishing, for an eleven-year-old. "Correct. Such is fate."
Fate was fair. What Gopph gave, he could take.
Caged birds remained caged, however high they flew.
"I'll create a world where all are happy. Even if..." Anming's voice was steady. If sacrifice was required—
"I must embrace Order."
For their happiness, he'd pay any price.
Gopph's low laughter filled the room. Then—
A prismatic glow erupted. His gaze sharpened into something predatory.
"O thrice-faced soul."
"Brand his tongue and palms with hot iron."
"That he may neither lie nor swear false oaths."