"Dad, if only I had the power to help you."

Yuna stares at the old, brownish photograph. Though the years had manifested itself in the bleaks and smudges of the glass, she can still vividly pronounce the figure - the happy smile she has as a child as her father carries her by her arms, and her mother close by her side.

The little girl in the photograph can no longer be discerned with the lady holding the wooden frame. Yuna, now 56, has the only reminder of her past being the scar she has on her right arm. A scar of which origins she can still remember despite the decades of hallowing memories burying it within.

It was a fateful day, of that six year old girl, watching as the angels come down in glorifying, mystical sight. Their robes pure in form, bathed in light, and their faces only barely discernable against the white glow. They come down in sense of fright and wonder upon the crowd looking at them. The whole community around her, and people from far and wide, garnering around them in a line.

She looks at her scar once more, now barely visible from her arm, only slightly pale and tender to the touch. Her mind can hear the voices and cries of people at that day. One by one, they face the terrifying angels in the lines. Some laughed, others cried, and they are all taken away towards the endless skies.

She saw her mother right at the front lines looking back from afar, with tears on her eyes. Her face seems to be in the form of despair, which Yuna then didn't understand. Yuna was carried by her father in his arms, and she can also hear her father's faint cry. Is mother going away too? By then she can't tell, as the angels took her mother away with them.

Her father took her down, and with eyes filled with sadness, knelt down in front of her and touched her face gently.

"Yuna, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you."

He held her right arm, and with a knife he held on his other hand, cut her arm lightly with it. She remembers that it hurts a bit, but her father's sudden take to embrace her did not allow her to cry or express any pain.

"Someday, Yuna, you will understand me."

After that, her father walked away from her, and into the line of angels. She was still holding her bleeding wound as she saw her father also taken away. The glow of the angel figures slowly molded into her faded memory.

It was only after all those years she finally understands. The scar, her father's expression, and why it is done. It is a sin, but perhaps a noble one. For she now knew that they both have to be taken away. That her mother was thrown into a lower Earth, and her father also has to go there. The scar is all but a reminder of her father's love, even amidst in front of God's divine judgment.

Yet even knowing so, Yuna felt powerless. If only she had done something, to not lose them, or to at least make them stay here too. The questions over the years flew by. Why was her mother brought into the lower Earth? What has she done? Why did her father did that act? Is he selfish, that he would dare to hurt his own child?

"I have to find them. Maybe they are out there, somewhere still."

She didn't know what Earth they were. She is now in Earth 4, but judging from her dad's act, they are absolutely in a lower Earth. The judgment that is once every 50 years will soon begin by the following month. She must make herself be judged, sinful and be damned. For in the name of love and family, she will be willing to face herself in God's harsh hand.