It was December 24, 20xx.

The brothers remember it well.

For Abel, it was mostly about the Christmas tree, glittering lights, and wrapped gifts near the crackling fireplace. Not that most gifts had something in them — they were just empty boxes — but he loved listening to their bedtime stories staring at them. He loved imagining an old man in red riding a sleigh of reindeers full of those colorful boxes, with people around the world eagerly waiting for them.

Moreover, it was also the exact day the terrorist head was officially caught. The group quickly crumbled, and a lot of hostages were rescued from the camps. It was everywhere — in the radio, in the television, in newspapers.

For Cain, it was the news.

And something else.

The wooden door swung open.

A bunch of juveniles jumbled in, their chatters quickly filling the room. An elderly man entered after them.

"Father Sebastian!"

"Sorry kids, I know I said December 23 — but the storm was awful last night."

The younger children leapt toward him, eagerly talking and asking. Do the city people really have Christmas trees as big as houses? Do they have real Rudolphs? Father Sebastian laughed, answering their questions patiently. The older kids stood at the side, helping the newcomers, but they soon had to pull the children away from the poor man to let him rest.

The priest slumped at the couch.

"Are we still holding our Christmas Eve mass, Father?"

"Yes — give me a minute. My legs are dying."

"How was the fundraising?"

"Pretty good! We had some minor troubles here and there — but I think the donation and our inventory will spare us three months!"

The room cheered. March will still be cold, but at least there would be fewer blizzards and storms. There will be more people wandering around outdoors, so they'd have a decent chance for another fundraising event.

"How are the new kids?"

"They're adjusting well! The older one was very apprehensive and closed off when he first woke up, but now he plays and socializes with every orphanage kid. The younger one's just sunshine."

"Yep, we're also amazed by how fast Cain and Abel recovered. Abel can even outrun the older kids."

The priest choked on his coffee.

"Hold on — what are their names?"

"Oh, Liam named them Cain and Abel—"

"Did you kids even read the bible or listen to my lectures?"

"Wait Father, why are you holding a pan?"

"Liam's in the living room, right?"

"H-hold up!"

The bell rang again.

Incense filled the air. Violins, piano, and flutes blended into a pleasant melody. Cain and Abel turned their heads.

A figure walked swiftly down the center, his robe floating in the air — rippling as if they were waves every time he stepped.

Cain's jaw dropped open.

"Abel, did you see it?"

"Dang, yea — why is Liam's cheeks swollen like that? He's still smiling like an idiot, though."

Cain glared at his brother. YOU are the idiot, Abel!

He looked back at the priest.

He's the one who found the orphanage? He's so cool! Why would he help kids like them? And that round white bread — why did he respect it so much? Who's that man on the cross? Why is he... like that?

Was he like them too?

Before he knew it, the mass ended.

A finger tapped on his shoulder.

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