Upon being enveloped in warmth and kindness, the locks on César's emotions break, and the doors flood open. He wraps his arms around Cerrit instead of himself.

There is much to mourn. The loss of his life and sense of safety in this new place. His parents. The sacrifices he made to save the world. A chance to know the man his baby brother is becoming cut short.

But he doesn't think he needs to mourn the lack of friends. People want to be his friend, here. They want to care.

So it's not just grief that drives César to bury his face into Cerrit but relief. He lets himself cry, shoulders shaking with sobs. Finally.

It's going to be several minutes before he can regain his composure. ... and several minutes before his legs can support his weight again. Ten months of being alone and an afterthought, and it took being crushed by a box to find an escape.