The reinforced door to the underground training facility slid open with a soft hiss, revealing Emmerich standing just outside, concern etched deep into his features. He stepped forward the moment he saw Luna hobble out, her ponytail frizzed and cheeks still flushed from the sheer exertion.
He opened his mouth to say something gentle—but Luna, limping but proud, beat him to it.
"I'm alive," she grinned tiredly, raising both thumbs. "Barely."
Emmerich couldn't help the sigh that escaped him as he walked beside her, steadying her subtly with a hand at her elbow. "You don't have to rush this, Luna," he said quietly, his voice more paternal than executive now. "You can take it slow. Cherry's method is… intense."
But Luna shook her head, the determination in her eyes unwavering despite the aches in her muscles. "It's brutal, yeah. But… it's working." She exhaled, long and steady. "She's dragging me out of my fear before it eats me alive."
Emmerich studied her for a moment, his expression softening. "You sound like her already."
That made Luna laugh, breathless. "Well, I had a very up-close lesson today."
A beat passed before Luna tilted her head, glancing up at her father as they walked the corridor. "How did you meet Cherry, anyway? Or like… how do you even know someone like her?"
Emmerich's gaze drifted ahead, a rare contemplative glint entering his eyes.
"She was… connected to your mother," he said slowly. "Cherry was the child of one of Lin's closest friends. When that friend died in an ambush, Cherry was taken by her paternal relatives—underground types. The kind that operate in shadows and debts and blood oaths."
Luna's eyes widened.
"They tried to mold her into a tool. But Cherry… she broke their grasp. Alone." He let that word sink in before continuing. "She carved her own path, clawed her way through hell, and emerged not just unscathed—but elite."
Luna felt a strange kind of chill—not fear, but awe. "She never mentioned anything."
"She wouldn't," Emmerich said. "Cherry only speaks when it matters. She's not the kind to wear pain on her sleeve." A slight smile touched his lips. "The first time I worked with her was during a cleanup op. She completed a three-day assignment in twelve hours, with no errors. No collateral. Left the target cell stunned before they even knew she was in the room."
Luna's mouth parted in disbelief.
"She's frank, calculating, and unshakably honest," Emmerich added. "And the only people she respects are the ones who earn it."
Luna walked in silence for a while, trying to wrap her head around the young woman who'd just spent hours throwing her across mats.
"So she's not just strong," she murmured. "She's… free."
Emmerich glanced at her, something proud flickering in his gaze. "Exactly."
Luna smiled faintly. Despite the soreness, despite the exhaustion, something inside her felt stronger than it had in weeks.
She had a long way to go.
The sleek black car slid quietly through the neon-lit streets, windows tinted to veil its lone occupant. Inside, Cherry lounged in the back seat, one arm thrown casually over the headrest, the other holding her phone to her ear.
She waited only a beat after the line connected.
"Your princess is healing," Cherry said flatly, eyes watching the rearview mirror more out of habit than paranoia. "She's not there yet, but I'm beating the softness out of her so next time, she won't just survive—she'll fight. I'm making her into her own damn knight in shining armor."
On the other end, Leroy groaned, clearly fatigued. "You could've said hello first, dear cousin. I just landed from an intense high-risk mission, and this is how you greet me?"
Cherry smirked. "You weren't dead. I checked."
Leroy rolled his eyes. "Could you not traumatize Luna while I'm gone?"
"She needs to learn to stand, not lean," Cherry snapped back. "You keep giving her something to rely on, Leroy. Something that might not always be there."
Her words landed with eerie precision. Silence crackled on the line for a moment.
"…Not like I want her to depend on me," Leroy finally muttered. "But she's been through hell, Cherry."
"So have we," Cherry said bluntly. "But you don't see anyone coddling us."
Another beat of silence.
"Why'd you really call?" Leroy asked finally, his voice quieter now.
"Took you long enough to ask," Cherry snorted. "Underground's stirring. Your grandfather—our grandfather—is poking around again. Old bastard's got strings in motion. Might be trying to wrap us in them again."
Leroy's jaw tightened. "Let him try. He'd have to reach across continents and timelines to get to me now."
"Same," Cherry replied, her voice edged with steel. "But I thought you should know. He doesn't quit."
"Neither do we," Leroy said, smirking now.
"Cute," Cherry muttered. Then she hung up.
In the silence that followed, Leroy leaned back in his chair, his eyes thoughtful. The low hum of the terminal buzzed behind him, but his mind had drifted far from the mission.
"That's her way of showing concern," he mused aloud, rubbing his temple. "A family tradition. Punching instead of hugging."
He sighed and chuckled under his breath. "Still… I'm glad Luna's got Cherry now."
A beat passed. His gaze turned distant.
"She'll drive her insane," he murmured, "but she'll also make her stronger."
And that was what Luna needed. Not a savior. Not a shield.
But a fire forged into steel.
Like she ought to be.