"Wh–what… what happened? Was it struck by lightning?"
"We're doomed… the evacuation ship's gone…"
"Sister, wh–what do we do now?!"
The other children had noticed the devastation along the shore, and panic immediately spread through the group.
Many of their faces went deathly pale with fear; some of the younger ones dropped to their knees on the sand, sobbing uncontrollably.
The desperate cries jolted Sister Teresa back to her senses. She clutched her cross tightly, took a deep breath, and when she turned around again, the terror and despair on her face had vanished without a trace.
"Everyone, don't worry," she said, forcing a smile, her voice calm and gentle.
"The Marine officer who contacted me before—he's a Rear Admiral, and he commands a whole fleet! This evacuation ship may have been destroyed by lightning, but if I contact him again, I'm sure he'll send another ship soon to rescue us."
"R–really, Sister?"
The crying began to fade. One little boy looked up at her with hopeful eyes.
"Of course! When have I ever lied to you?"
Sister Teresa raised her right arm confidently. "All right! I'll go contact that Rear Admiral right now. As for you all—you've been walking all night, haven't you? Everyone rest where you are, understood?"
"Yes, Sister!"
Their voices answered in unison.
Seeing their spirits lift again as they sat down to rest, the nun turned away, quietly wiped a tear from the corner of her eye, then took out her den-den mushi (transponder snail) and walked to a more secluded spot, pretending to make a call.
A short while later—
She returned, smiling brightly, and told everyone that the Rear Admiral had been informed of what happened here and had promised to send a second evacuation ship as soon as possible.
As expected, her words sparked cheers among the children. Taking advantage of the moment, Sister Teresa announced she would go pray for the fallen Marines who had died in the lightning strike—and set off alone toward the naval ship.
Before long, she came back carrying a large pile of food and drinking water, which she distributed among the children.
"There's bread!"
"And canned fish! And peach preserves—amazing!"
"Thank you, Sister!"
After walking all night, the children were exhausted and starving. Once they had their food, they devoured it eagerly.
Leaning against a rock wall, Sister Teresa watched them eat, a faint smile on her lips—but her heart grew heavier with every passing moment.
When she had gone to the ship alone, it hadn't been to pray for the dead.
She'd gone to search for survivors and to inspect the condition of the sails and masts, hoping there might still be a chance to repair the ship and set it afloat.
But what she found was the worst possible truth.
The ship was beyond repair, and there were no survivors.
Every single marine aboard had died—each one in that same strange, silent lightning strike.
What filled her with even deeper despair was that among the bodies, one wore a white cloak of justice—the very same Rear Admiral she had struggled so hard to contact before.
What did that mean?
It meant no other Marine ship would be coming.
She and the children were stranded on this beach, left with nothing but the slow approach of death.
As for returning to Flevance—
After a brief moment of hesitation, Sister Teresa shook her head and dismissed the thought.
When she and the children fled, the White City had already fallen into chaos.
The border situation was worsening by the hour, and there was every chance that within a day or two, the neighboring nations would launch a full-scale invasion of Flevance.
They had escaped that hell with such difficulty—how could she lead them back into it to die?
What am I supposed to do now…?
Panic, confusion, fear—they all swirled together inside her chest.
Sister Teresa buried her face in her knees, gripping her cross tightly as she wept in silence, doing her best to hide it from the children.
After all, she was only a young girl barely of age herself.
That she'd managed to endure this far was already a miracle.
How could she possibly come up with another plan in the face of such despair?
Her tears drained the last of her strength.
Exhaustion and sleepiness crashed over her, and before she knew it, she had slumped against the rock wall and drifted off into a hazy sleep.
She didn't know how much time had passed—
When a sudden, vigorous shaking jolted her awake.
At the same time, she heard excited voices right by her ear:
"Sister! There's really a ship coming!"
"It's a Marine ship! The Marines are here to save us!"
...
…What?
For a moment, Sister Teresa thought she must have misheard.
When she suddenly opened her eyes, the glare of the sunlight stung them so sharply she had to squeeze them shut again, tears almost spilling out.
When her eyes finally adjusted, she shielded her forehead with one hand and squinted toward the sea.
The sky was bright and clear—the sun hung high overhead.
It was already noon?
Had she really slept through the entire morning?
Then she looked down toward the water.
On the distant horizon, a massive white warship was cutting through the waves, sailing straight toward the shore at full speed.
Its white sails fluttered gently in the wind, and upon them was painted the blue seagull and scales of the Marine's emblem, glinting in the sunlight with a soft golden sheen.
It looked so warm—so steadfast and reliable.
"How… how could this be…"
Sister Teresa clapped a trembling hand over her mouth to stifle her gasp.
The children around her didn't notice her shock at all.
After a morning of rest and food, their strength had returned; they were laughing and shouting with joy, racing toward the shore, eager to welcome their saviors.