You’d be proud of our daughter for what she did today, Kevin. She made me worry like I’ve never worried for her before. I worried so hard I thought my head would burst with it, that my soul would overflow with it. Allen felt it too; I could see it in his eyes. But Allen doesn’t know, doesn’t know what it’s like to see his child run straight into danger thinking she knows everything she needs to stop it…He doesn’t know how I conjure up every possible scenario in my head to the point that I can’t think of anything else. He just doesn’t know. I’m not sure even you would understand, Kevin, perhaps this is a feeling only mothers have. Still, even as I was sad, I could not help but feel great pride in her, come so far from the child we made together.
Inside the Proto Merkabah, I fought drone after drone of that man’s creation, and some that created themselves by his pattern. It astounded me that one man could make such a huge factory, such a great place to…go insane. Joachim Mizrahi. Most people can’t even say his name out loud anymore. We looked up to him, before the end, remember? I do, I remember everything. I remember the way you’d whisper in my ear with that soft, deep voice of yours, the way that you looked at her those long hours we worked into the night. I remember the days we shared, surrounded by our friends, her aunts and uncles, as she slowly grew up before our eyes.
I even remember the bad things now, the times when she fought us. Lightning still makes me cringe, time hasn’t done anything to help that, not anymore than it has to help me forget you. The memories are all here, inside of me, inside of my heart and my mind, and I would not give them up for anything.
Maybe I don’t feel different from you because I’m her mother. Maybe I feel different because that night, you were killed by her, and I killed her. Maybe I don’t know how I feel anymore, not that it really matters. Nephilim helped me remember, though, and I cherish these memories I have with every waking breath. But I do feel differently from you, the love I have for her is mixed with pain, a deep pain that makes me worry. No mother should ever have to bury her child.
She’s made a friend, Kevin, though I don’t think she really notices it. A nice boy, if a little strange. He has white hair; I’ve never seen anyone with white hair who wasn’t a Realian. Those big, turquoise eyes seem blank to me, were opaque to me, until I realized why I could not see past them. He is consumed by love, love for the human race, love for all creatures, even the ones he brought into our world. Not so terrible an existence, if you ask me, but he seems sad, so sad all the time. I see a flicker of happiness in those sea-green orbs when he looks at her, though; I suppose he thinks I don’t catch it. I don’t know what to think, but I guess it’s really not my place to be thinking anything about it now, is it?
MOMO had her memories stripped from her mind, laid bare for that poor man, Albedo, to see. It was hard, so hard to see her, eyes devoid of any thought or care. She has sisters too, hundreds of them, but they’ve all passed on now, though they live on in her. I think that something of you lives on in our daughter, too, something that love preserves for us in our children.
So even if I can never feel your strong arms around me, even if I can never run my hands through your soft, blue hair, I can be happy now. She’s saved us all, saved the world and countless others like it. I think you’d be proud of our daughter, Kevin.