Once upon a time, there was a family, the youngest saw them as such: a king, a queen, a princess, and a prince, who was the faithful knight in service of the princess. Always by her side, he pampered his sister, defended her, and fulfilled her wishes. They were extremely close siblings.

The kingdom they lived in was filled with wars; even though they were royalty, they lived among groups much more powerful than they were. So the king and queen decided to embark on an adventure with their children to a new land.

However, along the way, both the king and queen died, leaving the two children behind.

Only the prince and the princess reached the land their parents had promised. But the adventure was far from over, for now, the two were merely monarchs in heart, having no more resources to live on. Two young people, one 15 and the other 9, hungry, cold, and filthy.

The siblings loved each other more than anything. The elder was the gallant protector of the younger, and she was the most precious thing he had. Yet in this new land, which was supposed to be their dreamland, it turned out to be a constant battle. The prince, to support his sister, began working as a cook, a cleaner, a driver—every kind of job so that his princess could be happy.

His honor forbade him from doing illegal work or anything against his ethics. Even so, despite being so just and good, things never seemed to get better. The many jobs exhausted the young man and wore out his body. The sun rose with him working, moved across the sky while he worked, and set while he was still at work. Many times the moon itself also witnessed the poor young man's routine.

He gave her gifts. Handmade, because he had no money. He made dolls out of rags and scraps.

Board games he created with his own creativity. Writing letter by letter, scavenging cardboard from the street for the board. Toys, clothes—all made by hand. His sister didn't always seem happy to receive those scraps and rags, but don't blame the child for not understanding that real life doesn't operate like a fairy tale.

But this still hurts the brother, who cries alone for his incompetence. For his poverty. For not earning more. Secretly, he weeps, exhausted. Dead. He couldn't take it anymore.

But he had to endure. For his little sister. For the one he loves. She deserves to smile. She deserves to be happy. She deserves a future. You don't have one. It's over for you, but there is still hope for her.

It's all right. It was for the life of the most beautiful princess that could ever exist in the world. He could endure, as long as it was for her. Even if the time they spent together began to drastically decay.

Years passed, the prince was now 26 and the princess 20. Their life had improved a bit compared to the beginning, but it was still harsh. He worked for her education. He worked for her health. He worked for her happiness. Never for himself. Never seeking a relationship. Never wanting to follow his dream of being a teacher. All for his sister. But never with her. He loved her so much that he was throwing away his own life for her, but she didn't feel loved by him. On the contrary, she felt like just a parasite draining everything he could be.

He didn't enjoy his own life for her. She MUST enjoy it for him.

Tick

Tock

Tick

Tock

The clock of life is ticking, and neither of them is enjoying it. Neither of them.

He is paying for her college, so she can't stop studying. She wants to work to help at home too, but her brother insists she focus on her studies. Everyone says the same thing: "If you have this opportunity to focus only on it, then take it. You don't know how hard it is to balance work and study." So don't stop studying. Your brother sweats and bleeds so you can have this chance. You've been blessed with something that many would kill for. So take this opportunity.

She has no time for distractions. She must study. He has no time for distractions. He must work.

He must work no matter the cost. Because his sister deserves it.

She must study no matter the cost. Because her brother deserves it.

For these two siblings, there is no "I," only the other sibling.

Tick, the clock of life chimes. Tock, it beats constantly, waiting for no one.

Tick, can you see the hands being pushed by the turn of the sun and moon? Tock, but it seems that some have less time than others.

The coughs began. It's just a cold. Surely.

Headache? It will pass soon, it happens.

Your vision is a bit tired? It's from spending too much time on screens. Rest your eyes a bit and it will be fine.

No. It won't pass soon. No. It's not just a cold. No. It won't be fine.

The princess fell ill, ignoring the symptoms that were appearing because she needed to study. She had no time to be sick. What you have time for or not is not in your hands.

Time is a playful boy who seeks a friend who knows how to enjoy it. He especially hates the arrogant ones who believe they are too special to appreciate what he gives.

She tried. She really tried. She gave her all to focus on her studies. But she could no longer see the letters clearly. She couldn't concentrate. She couldn't go to college anymore.

The young woman then found herself forced to take a break. It took 8 months to figure out what was happening.

"It's her eyes," theorized the ophthalmologist.

"It's stress. You should rest a bit," theorized the psychologist.

"It's a spiritual attack," theorized the religious person.

"It's a tumor," theorized the doctor.

"It's nonsense," theorized the ignorant.

Theories and theories with no solid basis. Just theories because the tests showed nothing. No matter the treatment, the medication, the prayer, the attitude, the behavior, the tip, the advice, the tea. Nothing improved, only got worse.

Time took away her health, and started taking away the money too. For the duo of Jack and Jill, they had to spend the little they didn't have to pay for something that yielded nothing. The only thing that gave them strength was the hope they had of finding a hope they didn't possess.

The brother is tired, but it's all right. It's for his sister.

The sister is tired, and it's not all right. Because now she was only making things much more difficult for her brother.

He found solace in her breathing.

She was hurt by him "being hurt" by her breathing.

She stumbles from side to side without any balance or base. Sometimes convulsing, fainting, vomiting. Her poor brother, who knows nothing about medicine or health, has no choice but to cry in despair thinking, "Is this when she's going to die?", call a neighbor, call an ambulance. He has no choice but to watch and call.

Finally, his sister was hospitalized. They discovered the tumor and cancer that were in the girl's head. Some that slowly stole the vitality and energy from his poor sister.

It should have been a moment of relief, of relaxation, of tranquility. They discovered what was tormenting them, now it was just a matter of getting the cure. Now they knew where to find their hope, it was just a matter of time... right? It should be, but the treatment is very expensive. Far beyond what the poor, poor, poor sibling duo could afford.

The sister panicked, but the brother stayed strong. He would manage to pay, absolutely certain, just needed time. He didn't need to eat every day, he could save a bit more by just having lunch, and still a third of what he always ate. If three jobs weren't enough, no problem, he'd find three more. But he would pay, he would save her. He would make time.

But he wouldn't leave her completely alone. No. She needs him now more than ever. They had been apart for too long, he sees how weak she is, how sad, how tired.

The brother visits her whenever he has time, bringing flowers, talking with her. He keeps her company, brings more handmade gifts, and whatever she asks for and he can make, he will. Even with his muscles tearing, even with his energy draining, even with coughing coming, even with his body weakening, even with his skin paling, he will find time for her. All the time in the world for her. Everything for the one he vowed to protect.

He then sees that her sad expression remains, especially when she looks at her flowers. It turns out that what he gives with all possible love, over time, dies. The flowers he brings have to be replaced by the nurses so that his sister doesn't see them decaying slowly, as she and he do. The sister knows this, so seeing the flowers saddens her.

But it's not a problem, because there's nothing this man wouldn't do for his little sister. If flowers sadden her, then he'll just bring flowers that don't die. Cardboard, papier-mâché, some arts and crafts, and voilà, the perfect flowers right there for his sister to see.

Is she tired of that place? He learned a technique—while she closes her eyes, he begins to narrate the most beautiful imaginable places. He will take her far away from that depressing room no matter what it takes. Whether it's to the beach, a forest, or another continent, through his persistence he will get her out of there. Because if his princess wants to see the world, then this knight will bring the world to her.

All the sister can do is suffer, laugh, cry, and breathe. That's all she needs to do, breathe for him. Your brother is sacrificing his life for you, he threw his life away so that you could live, so you cannot die. You don't have that right. Not with him.

Her brother was a gift from the heavens to her, such a pure and gentle being, her knight was the most celestial among all on earth. But... all this shine, this love, this affection... is just for her.

She doesn't know what's worse, dying and freeing her brother from that burden, or waiting for him to die from exhaustion, seeing someone with so much potential destroying himself. She sees his vitality fading, his strength, his color, she sees the healthy deteriorating as much as the sick. All a brother wants is to see the other living. But it seems that in this equation, both cannot live together. One will have to fall. One will not endure.

Tick, tack, tick, tack.

The clock of life is thinking, slowly absorbing the two.

Tick, tack, tick, tack.

She can hear its dark and cruel hands turning.

Tick, tack, tick, tack.

Then she made a decision.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA...."

It was the anguished scream of the poor brother upon discovering what his sister had done. The choice she made so he could live. She decided to free him from that burden. So he could live.

His entire world was destroyed with her loss. It wasn't a burden removed; it was the loss of a treasure. Now the brother was alone, and the whole mission of his life in recent years had simply ended.

What should he do now? He didn't want to do anything. He wasn't looking to do anything. He didn't want to find anyone. He had no dream or desire he wanted to fulfill.

His body was already weak, his heart weakened even more. And then:

Cough

The same cancer that attacked his sister was now attacking him. But now, he has no money or the condition to work to get it. He doesn't have a sister who would donate some of her time to him.

There's no exchange this time. There's no one. There's nothing.

Besides the sound of the clock of life preparing to deliver the final gong.

For the poor brother, there are no plastic flowers, for him there are no imaginary trips to other places.

Just the real room, the real world. The noise of people fading every second, and no one to calm or protect him.

But in reality... no one is ever truly alone. There is always someone watching.

There is always something watching, good or evil.

The good that watches normally does not interfere, unless necessary. Unless called or asked for help. Unless it's part of its plan.

The evil doesn't mind interfering; that's what it seeks, to change the course to its will. To use others. To destroy everything it can. To kill if necessary. To steal whatever it needs.

The good cares but doesn't interfere if not permitted. The evil doesn't care and seduces you to permit it.

Be happy, brother, you are not alone. You have a visitor.

"Hey, hey. How are you?" asked the fragile voice that entered the bed. The brother had never heard it before, much less seen the owner of the voice until that day.

That child was a complete stranger to him, as she was to everyone else she had visited.

Her question greatly angered the man, but she was just a child, she didn't know what she was saying. The brother then bit his tongue, watching the girl approach his bed closer and closer.

"Where are your parents, little one? Did you get lost?" The girl smiled innocently and mysteriously, a chill ran down the sick man's spine.

"You don't seem well, young man. Are you going to die?" she asked, not removing the smile from her face.

"If all goes well, no, but I think it's unlikely. What I have is pretty terminal, girl."

"Don't say those things, young man." The child scolded while taking one of his hands. "Where is your hope? Are you going to give up like this? Without even fighting?"

Another phrase that infuriated him. But he took a deep breath and continued.

"You can't say anything if you don't know what I've been through, girl. I've fought for hope. I had it and it disappointed me." The girl tightened his hand, and it began to hurt. Curious about the obvious emotion the girl felt, the man let her speak. In fact, the feeling was that even if he tried to stop her, she wouldn't remain silent.

"No, you misunderstood. It didn't disappoint you. It's not its fault, it never will be its fault. It exists to be the goal. The only reason you could move forward is because you had it, right? Just like your sister!"

"Wait, how do you..."

"But she lost hope, she gave up hope, she chose despair and sank into it. And dragged you with her into that pit of depression. Hi, hihi, hihihihihiih..." The man heard a crack coming from his hand, and the pain grew along with the girl's laughter. The door closed and it seemed like no one was coming to the brother's aid as he screamed and struggled to free his hand, but the child wouldn't let go and continued her monologue. "Now you have the chance to meet a hope a thousand times better than hers. It's like a slingshot, the deeper it pulls you down, the higher you will fly with the shot. So don't give up hope, turn it into your strength, use it for what you need."

"Let go! Let go of my hand! You have nothing to do with my life..."

"On the contrary, I've been with you all your life. I was the country you longed to live in. I was your sister. I was your sister's future. I was the life you wanted. I was her cure. Just as I am your cure. I AM YOUR JOY! I AM YOUR LUCK! I AM YOUR LIFE! I AM YOUR HOPE, BOY! I AM THE ONLY VIRTUE YOU NEED!"

She wouldn't let go, her eyes turned white and her laughter grew louder and louder, she was angry and joyful and sad. She didn't make sense. That child didn't seem to make any sense. She didn't even seem to understand what she wanted or felt. That thing's mind was a mess.

"W-What are you talking about?"

"Still don't get it, you fool? It's time's fault, that bastard who always, ALWAYS gets in my way. All your suffering is time's fault! If you felt hope, it's because you waited for something. Hope doesn't exist if you already have the solution in your hand. Hope is the solution to the problem you need to reach. But because of that... little arrogant brat who insists on mocking me, because of time. Many do not reach their hope and because of that they start blaming me. If time had been generous and waited a little longer to let the illness arrive, your sister would be amazing in the future. If time had been more understanding it wouldn't have made you both wait until your sister couldn't take it anymore. If it didn't exist... if that insufferable one didn't exist... if that boy didn't exist... then I... I... I... I... I WOULD BE MUCH MORE LOVED AND APPRECIATED BY PEOPLE. IF THEY DIDN'T HAVE TO WAIT TO REACH ME, THEN I WOULD BE MUCH MORE PRAISED."

The man remained static and speechless. That child was crazy, absurdly crazy, but still her words seemed to make so much sense. She seemed to calm down and let go of his hand. He didn't even feel it anymore, to be honest, he was still caught up in what she was saying. She fixed herself on her sweet and weak persona, with the cutest smile and the warmest tears. The same hand that grab the man, found itself in her own cheek in a gentle way.

"Who.. are you?"

"Hihi, call me Lily. You, Orf the Gentleman, are one of the most patient and kind men I have ever seen. Our interaction proves it. You don't deserve what you've been through, but if you agree to submit to me, then your despair, which is all your persistence and worry, will be left behind. So that no one else has to go through what you've experienced, time must fall. So come with me, become one of my generals, and grasp your hope."

On that day, cancer won, and the last survivor of his family died.

The only thing that no one could explain was how his hand had broken.