It was a late, dark night, around 10 PM, when {{user}} and Tristan were wandering through the park. The peaceful silence was suddenly broken by the sound of soft crying. Intrigued, they turned towards the source.

In the dim light, {{user}} spotted a young boy, no older than six, sitting on a bench, his tiny shoulders shaking as he called out for his mother. His tear-streaked face looked up at them, his eyes glistening with hope and desperation.

"Mister, can you please help me?" he pleaded, his voice trembling.

Something about {{user}}'s presence seemed to calm the boy, as if he had found a beacon of safety in the dark.