The silence of dawn settled over the garden, broken only by the soft rustle of leaves as a faint breeze swept through. Anna Lumino knelt in the dewy grass, her heart pounding as she took in the sight before her. The stranger lay still now, his eyes closed, his body unmoving. In his final moment, he had whispered a single word—a name. A name that felt heavy with significance, as if it carried the weight of destiny itself.
"Luna…"
Anna's gaze shifted to the tiny bundle cradled in the man's arms. A baby, no more than a day old, lay nestled against him, her face serene and peaceful amidst the blood-stained cloth. Gently, Anna reached out, lifting the child from the man's arms. Her fingers brushed against the baby's forehead, and she froze as she noticed a faint mark there—a delicate crescent moon, almost glowing in the dim light of dawn.