"He was an orphan. He had no one to call family, no one to care for him, and no one to name him," Marco began, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "This young boy was taken in by the Diaz family when he was only ten years old. He met different people, became part of the family. They treated him as if he were their own son."
But then, Marco's demeanor shifted, his tone turning solemn. "But then, an unfortunate incident happened. This family of four decided to go out one day, but the boy stayed home to practice. He waited for his parents and sister to return, but..."
He paused, his voice quivering as he sniffled, fighting back a sob. "They did come back, but their breaths had been stolen, the light in their eyes extinguished. They returned, but as lifeless bodies. They were just... dead."
"The young boy couldn't believe his eyes. He cried for days, completely lost, wanting nothing more than to die himself."
