A world where children don’t have to cry
I just read a brief theory by @piracytheorist that absolutely blew my mind.
The idea that Twilight’s true wish —his core motivation— is not exactly “a world where children are happy,” but rather “a world where children don’t have to cry,” completely changes the perspective.In Twilight’s mind, “not crying” probably equals “not suffering,” and if you don’t suffer, then you must be happy. It’s a logic he needs to believe.
But when you stop and analyze it, you realize this mindset is also the foundation of his identity as a spy and the reason he feels such a strong bond with Anya and Yor.For Twilight, the key is to avoid at all costs the situations that might provoke emotional pain. His strategy is to prevent trauma through detachment: not forming deep connections with others because he feels he lacks the tools to manage that suffering on an emotional level. His past and his current way of life have trained him to survive through reason and control, not through vulnerability.
A clear example appears in the cruise arc, where he confronts fear and discomfort through exhaustive logical analysis, even trying to decode Anya’s emotions as if they were predictable patterns.
Cold reasoning is his comfort zone, as it gives him the illusion of control. But when he faces emotional suffering —something impossible to measure with precision— he tends to collapse or overreact. Especially when he believes he’s causing Anya emotional pain, even though most of the time it’s just a misunderstanding caused by her mind-reading abilities.
Anya’s true pain, however, doesn’t lie in the traumas Twilight imagines, but in her constant fear of being abandoned. She worries that if she isn’t useful to the mission, her father will stop loving her —or worse, reject her altogether. That is the core of her insecurity, though Twilight doesn’t fully grasp it yet.
At its core, Twilight’s wish to protect Anya and all children from tears is nothing more than a projection of his own childhood suffering, of that boy once called a “crybaby” who swore he’d never feel that way again. Without realizing it, Twilight projects these insecurities onto his daughter, who, ironically, often shows far greater emotional resilience than her own father.
And this is where Yor comes in. Twilight not only sees her as Anya’s safe haven but also as his own. Yor embodies the emotional strength he cannot handle within himself: someone capable of feeling, expressing, and confronting emotions without fear. That gives Twilight a sense of comfort and security he denies himself.
In conclusion, what’s fascinating is that Twilight’s wish isn’t simply to “protect children,” but to prevent them from experiencing the same pain that scarred him. His greatest paradox is that, in doing so, he ends up projecting his own ghosts onto those he loves most. And while he runs away from emotions, Anya and Yor show him, day after day, that true strength lies in facing them head-on.
