The little girl finally finished digging the grave.
Her small hands were dirty, streaked with blood, and her face remained blank as she pulled the white cloth over her parents' bodies, tugging them into the shallow hole.
She didn't cry, nor did she pause.
It was a mechanical process, as if her mind had long since disconnected from the weight of the world.
A few meters away, Adrian, in his baby form, sat hunched on the ground, his tiny body resembling an awkward, curled-up ball.
His hands pressed into the earth, and his wide eyes were locked onto the girl as she worked.
He couldn't move much, his muscles still soft and weak from infancy.
His posture was odd, legs spread, head slightly tilted forward, chubby arms resting limply by his side, his small fingers twitching as he observed the grim scene unfolding in front of him.
He couldn't process it all, not in his baby form, but his adult mind was struggling to piece things together.
'This is... exactly how I remember it. The battle. The destruction of Kalinga. Emperor Ashoka's conquest... all because of some misunderstanding with the diplomats. The Kalingan envoy didn't read the emperor's message properly... And now, look at us. Look at this...'
His thoughts trailed off as he kept watching the little girl, who, now having buried her parents, began throwing soil over them.
The child—if she could even be called that—was completely devoid of any emotion.
She had no tears left to shed.
The baby's gaze softened.
Inwardly, he felt a certain hollowness for her, an echo of desperation he knew all too well.
'Desperation makes people strong but you should be proud child, you are strongest.'
He thought of his previous life, the moments when he too had felt cornered, pushing forward because there was no other option. He struggled hard, but even he was aware that no child at the age of 4 or 5 would be able to accomplish what she, this little girl, had just done.
Remaining strong and rational after all this, instead of crying like children on this battleground, was impossible in his eyes. Her respect for him had increased even more.
But still, he realized something cruel:
'This girl can't help me. She was too young, too broken.'
And he... well, he needed someone capable of feeding him, keeping him alive.
The brutal truth was, she can't even feed herself, let alone him.
'Not her...'
He knew this little girl couldn't provide the support he needed.
'.....' The girl paused, lifting a handful of dirt in her palm, her hollow eyes drifting toward him.
Her gaze was like ice, empty, as if she was looking through him rather than at him.
The baby flinched, his body instinctively curling inward.
'Wait, why is she coming here?'
His small mind raced.
The girl was slowly walking towards him, soil in her hand.
'What's she going to do?'
His little body trembled, but he willed himself to remain still.
She didn't speak, just moved silently, her feet dragging across the ground.
She was so close now, standing over him.
He looked up, wide-eyed, bracing for... something.
With a slow, deliberate motion, she reached down and placed the soil in his tiny hands, which were already smeared with blood from the earlier struggle.
The baby blinked, staring down at the dirt she had just dropped into his small palms.
His fingers barely moved, but he could feel the cold weight of it.
'What in the world...?'
The girl just stood there, staring down at him, her head tilting slightly to the side, her expression still as empty as before.
There was no smile, no words of comfort.
Nothing.
'Uh...'
He thought, trying to process the bizarre situation.
'Why did she give me this soil? Is this some kind of... symbolic thing?'
His mind, still rooted in adult reasoning, was grasping at straws, but he was utterly clueless.
Was this her way of sharing grief?
Was she expecting him to help bury her parents?
'I'm a baby! I can't bury anyone!'
The girl kept staring.
She didn't say anything, just nodded slightly as if the interaction made perfect sense to her.
'What do you want from me, kid?'
He thought helplessly.
His small face was scrunched in confusion, baby eyes darting between the girl and the soil.
Adrian sat on the ground, his small infant body barely able to support itself.
His hands, tiny and clumsy, rested against the soil, looking almost like the paws of a small animal.
His eyes were fixed on the dirt the girl had placed in his hands, pondering what exactly she wanted him to do with it.
His little brow furrowed in concentration while one hand moved instinctively to his chin as though he were deep in thought—'Why did she give me this soil?'
He didn't even notice when that little girl moved away from him while he was busy, with one hand on his chin and his eyes closed, contemplating the meaning behind it.
Oblivious to the cries and chaos echoing in the distance, he continued to focus on the situation at hand.
Explosions and shouts could be heard:
"Damn! She's a Magus!"
"Run away!"
"Arrghhh!?"
THUD
BOOM!
The sounds of battle were distant, but Adrian was too preoccupied with the soil to care.
'Should I pray? Maybe she wants me to... help bury her parents?'
His tiny fingers clenched around the soil as he finally pushed his baby body onto all fours.
His movements were shaky, his limbs trembling under the strain, but Adrian was determined to do something—anything—to show that he understood.
With slow, careful steps, he crawled toward the grave the girl had dug, mimicking what he thought she expected from him.
'If I don't help... she might leave me here. I need to stay on her good side.'
Once he reached the edge of the shallow grave, he threw the soil into it with a weak little toss.
His hands, already stained with blood, now held traces of dirt, mixing together as though symbolizing the blood and loss they both shared in this war-torn world.
'Uncle, Aunty... I don't know you, neither do you know me, but I hope you find peace in the afterlife.'
He clasped his hands together, closing his eyes as if in prayer.
'Not like me though, I got stuck here...'
Finishing his little ritual, Adrian clapped his hands together lightly and gave a small bow, muttering under his breath, 'Phew, done!'
As he straightened up, he saw the little girl arriving beside him, her blank expression staring at him.
But she seemed satisfied with his actions.
For a moment, he felt proud, as though he'd figured out exactly what she wanted without her having to say anything.
He gave her a smile, folding his hands over his chest like a triumphant with a pout, his face beaming with an 'I did it!' expression.
'!'
But then something hit him—literally, in the form of a familiar scent.
His nose twitched as he caught the faint but unmistakable smell of milk.
His eyes widened in realization.
The girl was standing with a bag around her waist, and inside it... milk.
Sweet, sweet milk.
His stomach grumbled, and he couldn't hold back the instinctual need.
He reached out, his baby hand clumsily grabbing at her clothes while babbling, "Baba Boo Boo!"
'Milk!'
'Give me milk!'
The girl tilted her head, her hollow eyes observing him with the same empty expression.
She seemed utterly confused by his words but instinctively reached for the bottle tied to her waist.
Adrian's eyes lit up as he stretched his tiny hands toward it.
'Finally!'
But just as his fingers were about to grasp the bottle, the girl moved it out of reach, holding it to the side.
Adrian blinked in surprise.
'Wait, what?'
She did it again—moved the bottle just out of reach as he stretched for it.
Adrian followed the bottle like a small, desperate animal, his eyes wide and his hands grabbing at empty air.
'Is she... teasing me?'
For a moment, he couldn't believe it.
This girl, barely older than a toddler herself, was toying with him, waving the milk in front of him like bait.
His pride stung.
'She's treating me like a dog!'
His little baby face scrunched up in frustration as he flailed his arms toward the bottle.
The girl remained completely expressionless, her face a blank slate, yet somehow, Adrian could sense a spark of amusement in her actions.
After a bit of back and forth, Adrian just sat there, no longer interested in what she had to do.
She waved the bottle around like it was some kind of signal, but he didn't even budge.
Noticing his look, she switched her gaze between the bottle and Adrian, tilted her head like she was deep in thought, then chucked the bottle a meter away onto the ground.
She pointed at the bottle, then looked back at him.
And all the while, since he met her, the first word left her mouth.
"Shooo," she said flatly.
'Shoo?'
Adrian's mouth dropped open.
'She's definitely treating me like a dog!'
Feeling his pride slip further away, Adrian clenched his tiny fists and glared at her, his little teeth barely visible in his open-mouthed baby snarl.
But the hunger was too much.
He needed that milk.
He needed food.
With a defeated sigh, he put his pride aside and turned back toward the bottle, crawling on all fours to retrieve it.
'Fine... I'll play along... for now.'
As he reached the bottle, he grasped it with both hands, his small fingers barely able to wrap around the large container.
He struggled to lift it, wobbling slightly, but eventually managed to lie on his back, turning the bottle upward and using gravity to pour the milk into his mouth.
His face was scrunched up in concentration, but he didn't care how ridiculous he looked as long as he was finally drinking.
The girl stood there, watching him with crossed arms.
Her face remained devoid of emotion, but somehow, Adrian could sense a spark of pride, as if she was pleased with herself for training him like a pet.
'Great... now I'm her puppy,' he thought bitterly, taking another gulp from the bottle.
At least, for now, he wouldn't starve.
'Even if I have to start barking orders and sniffing butts, I'm determined to remain alive in this life!'