Toren could conclude some things while he observed.
Ross' approach to the children was quite benevolent and gentle, but his usual responses were odd and harsh.
Maybe because of the unfamiliar warmth that threatens his ice cold heart that he refused any kind of stoic and solid response. The children became frightened of him because of that.
He mostly uses physical dominance against them to control their actions toward him.
He wanted things to remain like a status quo, ending it with the papers and documents until they were to be discarded. That was how he worked with them.
The children were fine as long as they did not act out against him.
They would follow his commands, shake at his presence, and prepare for his visits.
It was a bit of a troublesome scenario to them, but they have gotten more and more used to it as days pass by. Besides, the professor was quite passive in their affairs outside the supposed schedule of their games and processes.
Meanwhile, Coen had this subtle approach to them that meddles a bit more than how Ross would.
He was usually an observer as well, but he take favors.
He would draw a thick line between him and the child's emotions until it had been clear to them that despite his cheery personality, there was always an underlying darkness. He made clear by his gestures and favor grants that he is not entirely an enemy, but he is definitely on the professor's side.
It all boils down to his loyalty again.
Toren knew about this pattern. His brother's service and loyalty.
And then, an attempted murder afterwards.
It was always a gun.
He never used a dagger or a blade or a rope. Nothing else was good enough for him unless a specific bullet goes through his master's lifeline.
But it never happens. It always end up to be an almost.
In a few more months, Toren was growing quite weary about watching these cruel things. How his friend had turned out to have an unresolved battle with his own undertows and his brother spiraling down deeper and deeper onto evilness age by age, master by master.
Toren closed his eyes and turned off his consciousness. He did not want to return at Airen's tempting arms yet and he did not want to stay at the laboratory either, so he went somewhere else.
At his own escapade.
At the dream world that only his brain could possibly fabricate. And there, he put himself in an empty desert. The place was only filled with dusty winds and whooshing noises.
The sky was neither sunny nor dark. It was as empty as it was underneath.
The gray hues splayed out symmetrically as there were no clouds and heavenly bodies in it. And before him was his father Muren, standing and staring at him blankly.
"Father," Toren whispered. "Are you resting well?"
"Yes, I am," Muren replied. "You seemed quite troubled. Is there something wrong?"
Toren moved back and forth restlessly. He could not look straight at one point, especially through his father's eyes.
"I wanted to ask you something," He finally said. "What were you thinking before the night you killed yourself?"
"I was thinking about the meaning of my life. It is different from everyone else's, so it would be pointless to know life itself. Are you wondering about it as well now?"
Toren sighed and slowly shook his head.
How could he answer such a question when he does not know?
And when Muren vanished along with the sands, Toren realized how wrong he was to call for his father and seek such questions. Because his father fades away along with everyone else.
Everything can disappear like a fragile, ephemeral flower. But he would not.
Toren stays permanently there while everyone passes through him and eventually dies.
How could someone who can disappear understand someone who cannot?