Flowers on an Iron Grave Marker: Gerbera Knows No Tears - Flowers Blooming in Ruins, Tears Spilling Over

The rain had already stopped. The gray clouds broke apart, and through the gaps in the ruins, a blue sky—unseen for so long—peeked through. But the air was still bitterly cold. Her breath misted white. Iris Cromwell sat alone in the crumbling hangar of the former Zervia Research Facility No. 7, hugging her knees. Gerbera Tetra's left shoulder armor was deeply gouged. A wound inflicted in the last battle by that jet-black machine—the Schwarzfalke. Her slender fingers traced the edge of the damaged armor. Cold. As cold as her own heart. (*Why did that pilot stop fighting?*) That voice echoed in her head. *"Why do you fight?"* It was the first time. The first time an enemy had ever asked her such a thing. *"I have no choice."* The version of herself that had answered with a trembling voice seemed utterly ridiculous now. If she had no choice, why did she tremble? If she was a weapon, why did her heart pound like a war drum? "...Thinking about it is pointless." She stood up. Her small frame looked even smaller at the feet of the massive Gerbera Tetra. She disconnected the link harness terminal embedded in her neck, and her carelessly draped platinum-blonde short hair swayed in the cold wind. She headed toward the toolbox piled in the corner of the hangar. To replace the parts. She had to fix Gerbera Tetra. The enemy would come again soon. That was her role, after all. —Or so it should have been. Her fingers stopped just before grasping the tool. *That's wrong*, she thought. She understood it in her head. If she didn't do this, she would simply die next time. And yet, for some reason, her body wouldn't move. (*Do I not want to fight anymore?*) She shook her head. That couldn't be. She was a weapon. Born to fight. She had no other way to live. And yet. That pilot's words remained lodged in her like a thorn. —That was when it happened. *Clatter.* Footsteps echoed from the hangar entrance, stepping on crumbled concrete. Iris's entire body went rigid. Her violet-gray eyes narrowed sharply. An intruder. No one else should have known about this place. She silently hid herself in the shadow of the toolbox and drew the combat knife from her hip. Her heart pounded furiously. (*Don't come closer.*) She murmured in her mind. Right now, she wasn't in her machine. She was defenseless. She could be killed. —Killed? Her heart reacted strangely to that word. It would be a lie to say she wasn't afraid. But more than that— (*If it could end, that would be fine too.*) Such a thought crossed her mind, and she bit her lip. No. She didn't want to die yet. If she was going to die, she wanted to die as a human— "...Is someone there?" A low, calm voice echoed through the empty hangar. She recognized it. From that time— The tension drained from Iris's shoulders. No, it didn't drain. She was trembling. Through the gaps in the debris, she stared at the figure standing beside Gerbera Tetra in the center of the hangar. Cain Rathford. He wasn't wearing his jet-black pilot suit, but a soot-stained field jacket. He was tall, 184 centimeters, with a solid build. His dark brown short hair was swept back carelessly as always, and the white scar running from his left cheek to his jaw was clearly visible even in the dim light. He was carrying the damaged leg parts of his own machine—the Schwarzfalke. He, too, had come to repair his machine. "...Come out. I've already put down my weapon." Cain spoke. There was no pistol in his hand. The holster at his hip was empty too. He slowly raised both hands and crouched down on the spot, as if to show he was no threat. Iris's heart beat even more violently. (*Why is he doing this?*) He was an enemy. A target to be eliminated. But he had discarded his weapon. If he had no intention of fighting, then what was she—what was she supposed to do? She slowly stood up and revealed herself from the shadows. The hand gripping the knife was still trembling. She feigned an expressionless face, but beneath her platinum-blonde hair, her eyes were clearly shaken. "...What are you planning?" Her voice was so faint it surprised even herself. Cain looked straight at her with his deep green eyes. There was no hostility there, no killing intent. Only a stillness like a deep forest spread within them. "I want to talk to you." He spoke carefully, as if confirming each word one by one. "Not to fight. I just want to know. About you. Why you're fighting alone in a place like this. Who you really are." "...Who I am?" Iris gripped her left arm tightly. Beneath her military uniform, the brand. ZVN-07-IRIS. " I am a weapon. Nothing more, nothing less. I am merely a program that protects the 'Machine God's Core' you people seek." Rehearsed words. A curse she had repeated to herself. But Cain quietly shook his head. "That's wrong." He stood up and slowly took one step closer to Iris. "A weapon doesn't ask me 'why.' A weapon doesn't call itself a 'program.' You referred to yourself as 'I.' That's proof you have your own will." Something deep in Iris's chest made a small *click*. She took a step back. "...Shut up." Her voice trembled. The more she tried to suppress her emotions, the more her expression drained from her face—she could feel it herself. "What do you know? I... I've killed countless people. I killed your subordinates too." "Yeah, I know." Cain's voice was surprisingly gentle. "I'm the same. On the battlefield, under orders, I've taken the lives of many enemies. And more than anything—three years ago, because of me, all my subordinates died." He unconsciously rubbed his right forearm. Beneath his long sleeve, the names of his lost comrades were engraved. "I gave orders without looking at my subordinates' faces. As a result, the platoon was annihilated. I was the only survivor. At that time, I thought: I never want to kill people labeled as 'enemies' again." He paused there and took a deep breath. "That's why I wanted to ask you. Why do you fight? I wanted to properly look at your face and talk to you as a 'human being.'" Iris felt her lips tremble. "...I..." The words stuck in her throat and wouldn't come out. It was the first time. The first time she had ever thought of telling someone about her past. "I was born as Test Subject ZVN-07-IRIS of Project Titan." She began to speak in a flat voice, as if talking about someone else. "By the time I was aware of myself, I was already a weapon. The adults called me by a number and taught me that emotions were a hindrance to combat. This brand on my left arm is everything I am. Even my name was merely given to me later." She turned back to look at the massive form of Gerbera Tetra. "That machine alone was my other half. Joy, sadness, anger—I could share everything with it. But what I always felt inside the machine was only the sensation of killing enemies. My combat instincts run wild, and I destroy the enemy. I even find it... pleasurable. And when the battle ends, I always feel nauseous." Her eyes reflected nothing. Only an empty darkness spread within them. " I am broken. A defective failure, both as a weapon and as a human being." —That was when it happened. A single ray of light streamed through a break in the clouds. It passed through a small ventilation opening in the far wall of the hangar and illuminated a pile of rubble. Gray concrete and twisted steel frames. And in the gaps between them— A single white flower was blooming. Iris's eyes opened wide. As if drawn in, she approached the flower. Paying no attention to the other debris, she stared only at that small white flower. "...So it was blooming here too." For the first time, the sharpness like a weapon vanished from her voice. Cain silently watched her from behind. Iris crouched down and gently touched the petal with her finger. At a distance so close she barely made contact. "When I was young, I once found a flower blooming under the same ventilation opening." She continued speaking as if to herself. "I thought it was beautiful. Then a researcher found out, and the flower was trampled. 'A weapon has no need for emotions,' they said. At that moment, for the first time in my life—I felt anger." She gently moved Gerbera Tetra's giant steel fingers, as if to encircle the white flower. The hands of a high-performance machine, made to kill people, protected the flower gently, like a parent cradling a baby. "Ever since then, whenever I find a flower blooming in the ruins, I've protected it like this. Because this is all I can do. Every time I see one, I feel like something still remains inside me... and that made me happy." Her slender shoulders trembled slightly. Cain quietly knelt down beside her. "You are human." His voice was very quiet, yet filled with absolute conviction. " ...No." She desperately shook her head. "No... I've killed so many. Just because I protected a flower... there's no way I can be forgiven..." "Would a weapon try to protect a flower?" Cain gently layered his words, as if reasoning with a sobbing child. "Would a weapon whisper 'goodbye' to the enemies it killed? Would a weapon find something 'beautiful'? You are stronger than anyone, and kinder than anyone. More than anyone—aren't you human?" —*Plip.* A tear spilled from Iris's eyes. One drop, then another, ran down her silver hair and soaked into the rubble near the white flower. For eighteen years. She had told herself that a weapon had no need for tears. Even as she trembled after slaughter, she never allowed herself to cry. If she cried, she would stop being a weapon. She would become human. If that happened, everything she had done would be too heavy, and she surely wouldn't be able to stand anymore. But— " Nn... ngh..." As if a dam had broken, her emotions overflowed. She covered her face with both hands and cried, stifling her voice. It was a thin, painful, childlike weeping. Cain said nothing. He simply, silently, gently wiped her tears with his rough fingers. And then, as if handling something fragile, he softly pulled her small shoulders into an embrace. Iris's body flinched. Another person's warmth. The first time in her life she had felt it—warmth without hostility, just simple human warmth. "...Why?" She asked in a trembling voice. "Why do you... do this for me?" "Because I want to." Cain answered shortly. "I'm not asking you to save me. I'm not trying to use you. I'm just doing it because I want to. Is that not allowed?" *Is that not allowed?* Those words crumbled the frozen walls of Iris's heart with an audible sound. Not for something in return. Not an order. Just because he wanted to— She hadn't known that such a simple thing could exist in this world. "...I don't understand." She murmured in a voice muffled by tears. "I don't understand anything. What I should do... how I should live from now on..." Cain, still holding her shoulders, spoke quietly. "That's fine. You don't have to understand anything right now. Just think. By your own will. You're not alone anymore." —*Thump.* Something different from before pulsed deep in Iris's chest. It wasn't fear or self-loathing. It was something warmer, something stronger—like a kind of power. Timidly, she wrapped her hands around Cain's back. Hesitantly, ever so gently. His jacket was cold and soot-stained, but from beneath it, human warmth definitely reached her. In the silence of the ruins, the two sat on the rubble, just staying close. The white flower, illuminated by the single ray of light, swayed quietly right beside them. This was her first moment of peace. Not as enemies, not as weapons—a fleeting time when hearts touched as one human being to another. Cain took off his jacket and draped it over Iris's shoulders. "...You must be cold." Saying only that, he sat down on a piece of rubble a little distance away and looked up at the sky. The sun would set soon. Iris clutched the c

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Episode 3

Name: Flowers on an Iron Grave Marker: Gerbera Knows No Tears
Author: Novelia

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