"What kind of human do you want to be?"
That was the first question she asked Jonas when he first entered the military.
Even then, thirteen was still considered too young to be fighting for one's life. But after years of relentless conflict, humanity had finally entered a more stable phase, allowing stricter requirements for soldiers. Fewer were needed. Standards rose. Yet somehow, Jonas still stood there, a recruit among many, facing a question he had never thought about.
As for why he had chosen to enlist, his reasons were simple.
A stable income. Food. Clothing. Shelter.
And most importantly, the ability to protect his own life.
That was all.
So his answer came just as simply.
"The kind that is alive," he replied curtly, lifting his gaze to meet the person who had asked.
In the years before the invasion, she would probably have been in college, living an ordinary life. But in this world, she existed in a strange in-between—too old to be sheltered, yet too young to retire from the battlefield.
"Haha! That's a good one," she laughed, her red hair swaying with the motion.
Then, after a brief pause, her tone shifted.
"Sorry about that. What I meant was…" Her expression turned serious, unnaturally so. "When you die, do you want to die with regrets or without regrets?"
Jonas felt a slight tremor run through him under her gaze. Still, he didn't back down.
"I don't plan on dying until old age."
It was an honest answer.
He had never understood people who threw their lives away so easily. To him, joining the army wasn't about ideals or sacrifice—it was a means to an end. A way to survive. To live independently. To exist on his own terms.
"Of course!" she said brightly, as if brushing off the heaviness of the moment. "Only crazy people plan to die early. Even I want my grandkids watching over me when I pass away."
She spoke like it was a joke, her tone light and carefree.
"By the way, who are you?" Jonas asked suddenly. They had been talking for a while, yet he knew nothing about her.
"Me?" She grinned. "I'm Nalum—the woman who defied all her family's expectations to become the greatest soldier!"
According to her, she came from a family filled with politicians and scientists. When she declared her intention to become a soldier—despite clearly having the talent for something else—they opposed her vehemently.
"They said, 'You can save more lives as a scientist than as a soldier.'" She rolled her eyes slightly. "But I wanted something different."
She wanted to bring hope to people directly. To stand where others could see her. To become someone others could rely on.
"And a scientist's bony frame can't do that!" she added with a laugh.
Still, she hadn't abandoned her talent. Whenever she wasn't on duty, she worked as a scientist as well.
Even Jonas, who rarely found himself impressed by others, couldn't deny it.
To him at the time, she was someone who could do everything.
—
"What kind of person do you want to become?"
A few months later, Jonas found himself asking her the same question.
"I want to be a reliable person," she replied without hesitation.
"I see."
But to Jonas, she already was.
More reliable than anyone he had ever known.
Far better than the people he called family.
—
A month later, she died in battle.
And he was there when it happened.
"Why didn't you run?" Jonas demanded, dragging her battered body into what little safety he could find amidst the storm of attacks.
Her condition was beyond saving.
Her entire lower body had been blown off. The only reason she was still alive was sheer, stubborn will.
"I told you…" she forced out, her voice strained. "I want to be a reliable person."
Her breathing was slowing. Each word cost her more than the last.
Jonas clenched his teeth.
"You could have run away," he said. "If we had all died here, you could've lied. You still would've been seen as reliable."
In a world where betrayal was common and survival often came first, no one would have blamed her.
Everyone lied.
Everyone deceived.
That was simply how things were.
But—
"Why should I care what they think?" she murmured.
Her answer stunned him.
"I only care about myself."
For a moment, Jonas nearly snapped at her, wanting to shout about her current state—about how everything she said made no sense.
But she continued.
"I don't want to be a reliable person in the eyes of others…" Her eyes fluttered, nearly closing, but she forced them open. "I want to be reliable according to my own heart and mind."
Her voice softened.
"I'm quite a selfish person…"
Her life was slipping away, yet she held on, as if there was still something she needed to say.
"Jonas… what kind of person do you want to be?"
He knew he had to answer.
But the answer he gave when they first met—it wasn't enough. It wasn't real anymore.
Somewhere along the way, knowing her had changed him.
He had learned to think about others.
He had learned that helping people could bring a kind of satisfaction he had never known.
But even so, he couldn't be like her.
Not completely.
Which was why he chose his own answer.
"I want to be like you," he said quietly. "I want to be a reliable adult."
All his life, ever since his parents died saving a stranger, he had seen nothing but darkness in the eyes of his relatives. They had torn apart the small inheritance his parents left behind, using whatever means they could.
And the people who offered him nothing but empty words—those hollow gestures—had only deepened his indifference.
To him, adults were one of two things.
Enemies.
Or bystanders.
None of them were reliable.
Until he met her.
Someone who willingly stepped into danger for others.
Someone who chose to sacrifice—not out of obligation, but out of a strange, deeply personal sense of self.
A selfishness unlike anything he had ever known.
A selfish, self-sacrificial spirit.
"I see…" Her voice was faint now. "I pray you become what you want to be."
Her eyes slowly closed as her final moments approached.
Jonas felt his chest tighten.
"Nalum…" he called softly. "Did you become the person you wanted to be?"
For a brief moment, there was silence.
Then—
"Yes."
Her answer came gently.
"That is why… I have no regrets…"
A pause.
"…besides not seeing what a wonderful person you will become."
And with that, her breathing stopped.