[Present]
Robin stepped out of the prison gates, weak but steady on their own two feet. The cool air hit them like a shock after days of stale walls and fluorescent lights. The father reached out with strong arms and wrapped Robin in a warm hug. Steady and solid, his hand gripped Robin like a safe harbor.
"What have they done to you, my child?" he asked in a whisper.
"So good to see you too, Dad." Robin said with a faint, tired smile, swallowed by the father's embrace.
***
Robin and their father sat in a small, quiet hotel room. The walls were bare, the bed neatly made, but the atmosphere was heavy. Robin rested on the couch, pale and still. The energy that once filled them seemed drained. Now they were almost silent.
Robin's father sat nearby, completely still and silent, worry etched deep into his soul. His phone buzzed. It was Weaver.
"Gabriel, listen," Weaver's voice was low but urgent on the call. "Most airlines won't touch a super-caster passenger. They see it as a risk. But I managed to pull some strings with friends at an airline. It'll take some time."
The father ran a hand through his beard. "So we wait?"
"For now. You can book a flight for next week. I'll send you the company and times."
"Thanks, Albert."
Robin overheard the call, eyes downcast. Their mind swirled with everything. Freedom, fear, leaving friends behind.
Later that evening, Gabriel broke the silence. "Robin, I know this isn't what you wanted. But if you stay here... they might never let you go."
Robin's voice was soft, almost trembling. "I know, Dad. Thanks for being here... for me."
Gabriel reached out, touching Robin's shoulder gently.
The days dragged on. Robin grew quieter. Once so full of life, now they watched the world with a distant gaze.
***
On the morning of their flight, Gabriel awoke to an empty bed. Robin was gone. His heart clenched as he rushed to find them. There was only one place they could be - and Gabriel knew exactly where that was.
At the train station, Robin stood by the tracks, eyes fixed on the rails that seemed to stretch forever. The cold air bit at their skin, but it was nothing compared to the ache inside. The endless lines of steel felt like the endless choices they never wanted. Flee or be trapped, lose everything or lose themselves. How did they get here? How did being this - this uncontrollable, dangerous thing - become a sentence? The world was watching, judging, locking them away like a threat instead of a person. And now, the only escape was a flight far from everything they loved.
"Robin!" Their father's voice cut through the fog of despair, soft but steady.
Robin didn't turn. Bitter tears slid down their cheeks. "I can't leave, dad. Not like this. Not because I'm... this!"
"You're my child. And that's all that matters." Robin's father stated.
Robin's body gave way, knees buckling as the weight of it all crashed down. The unfairness was suffocating. They never asked to be born this way, to be feared or hunted. They just are. And bitter tears flowed between trembling fingers as they tried to muffle a scream of helpless rage and sorrow.
Their father knelt behind Robin and pulled them into an embrace.
"Let's go home."
Not far away, a drone hovered silently in the sky, its camera lens focused on the scene below. The feed flickered on a screen inside a dark van parked just out of sight.
"Stand down," said a blue mage officer to the squad on the radio. Calm and collected, his mind brushing Robin's like a feather on the wind. "They will not run away. They are in good hands now."