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The child in his arms was so small, so delicate, so beautiful and not his. But that wasn't something new, all his children were small, beautiful and not his.
They weren't on earth and they weren't in this world either, and yet he didn't let that stop him from calling them his children, or presenting them as such, or conceiving of them as such.
Adding one more wouldn't kill him.
He wondered if, in the end, he could not have this one as he had not been able to have many others, what kind of cruelties fate had in store for her, what kind of adversities she would have to face alone, or if she would be accompanied, or if she would live long enough for any of those possibilities.
Cale was human and could not save the world, could not end famine or war or abandoned children; Kim Rok Soo had been human, had tried throughout the apocalypse to prevent as many deaths as he could possibly prevent, had saved dozens of children and lost hundreds more.
Yes, this was going to be another daughter of his.
For if he could not save the world, he would at least save one life.