Bonnie's voice was as soft as a gentle breeze. She knew that Fatty, who could never ignore the tragic scenes, had once again begun to feel lost about the future.
This small citizen with a love for life was an anomaly in this war. Time after time, he created miracles, gathering people who were once strangers to him and leading them to where they stood today.
However, those who understood his nature always had a certain worry.
Because no one knew when this Fatty, who was so out of place with the war yet bore such a heavy burden, would collapse.
"It's not that simple." Fatty shook his head, his voice somewhat wooden, "Resources, religion, race, hatred, politics... these damn things will never cease!"
"Did you see that child with the broken leg?"
Bonnie saw on the other end of the mecha team, a ragged mecha raising its arm. She heard Fatty's voice coming through the headset.
"He's only two or three years old."
