Dawn, Child of the Sun

It's a young Angel, crumpled and crying in the corner of a stone room.

A young Tequila "Sunny" Sunrise stands a few feet from her, watching. As her choked sobs fill the room, he tosses a glance at the room's lone exit before slowly approaching her like one would a scared animal.

"The baker they executed," he started, "were you close to him?"

Angel's still crying, but between hiccups and sniffles she explains that the baker was always so nice to her, and talks about all of the kind things he did for her. Things like smiling at her, giving her a pat on the head, offering her free treats—every little thing that only Angel would remember to such immense degrees.

"I don't understand, big brother... why do people have to die?"

His gaze drifts to the floor—the dark stains over the grout and stone tiles catch his eye. People were killed in this room, too.

"It'll be okay. I'll protect you. Someday, I'll protect everyone else, too."

Angel looks up at her brother. He's offering a warm smile—and a hug, which she quickly accepts. While she cries against him, hiding her face against his shoulder, he visibly fights back tears of his own.

"This isn't any way to live, after all."