Cale’s eyes swept the dimly lit cell, catching once more how the other prisoners edged away from a particur spot, their wary gnces skittering off like startled flies whenever they veered too near. A shiver prickled his skin—not from the damp chill of the stone walls, but from the unspoken tension threading through the air.

  He hesitated, then stepped closer to the figure seated against the wall. “Do you… mind if I sit here?”

  The boy—blind, judging by the way his clouded eyes stared past everything—tilted his head, as if weighing the question. After a moment, he turned toward Cale’s voice, a faint quirk tugging at his lips. “Sure. Pick any spot you like.”

  A flicker of relief, almost etion, warmed Cale’s chest. He exhaled softly, lowering himself to the grimy floor beside the boy. The rough wall grazed his back as he slid down, steadying him until he settled, his racing pulse finally slowing.

  Since the moment he’d been hurled into this forsaken pce, a gnawing dread had shadowed him—especially around those creatures. Their presence loomed, heavy and menacing, in the cell’s corners. But now, with the blind boy’s casual permission, the weight of their invisible stares lifted, dissolving like mist.

  “Haa…” Cale let out a deep, shuddering breath, slumping against the wall. His mind churned, thoughts tumbling over one another. Guys, just hold on. I’ll get out of here soon. He turned his head, studying the boy beside him—the one he’d pegged as blind, though something about him tugged at Cale’s instincts. This kid… there’s more to him than meets the eye.

  From the second Cale had nded in this cell, he’d clocked the odd way everyone avoided this boy, as if he were a pgue wrapped in skin. It wasn't a completely random chance that had driven Cale to sit here. No, it was strategy: one, to ward off any of those things with twisted intentions; two, because this boy was among the scant few humans still breathing in this pit.

  With a quiet sigh, Cale turned to the boy, who was now humming a low, aimless tune. “Hey, little brother,” he said, his tone gentle but respectful. “I’m Cale. Do you know where we are?” He extended a hand in greeting, a reflex he instantly second-guessed.

  The boy paused mid-hum, a slow smile creeping across his face. “Cale, huh?” His voice carried a hint of something—nostalgia, maybe?—as if the name stirred a memory.

  Cale frowned, puzzled. “Yeah. Something wrong?”

  “Hm? Oh, no,” the boy chuckled, a soft, airy sound. “It’s nothing. Just… your name reminds me of a red-haired guy I once knew.” He resumed his humming, ignoring Cale’s outstretched hand entirely.

  Cale’s brows knitted together before understanding dawned. Right. He’s blind. He let his hand drop, wondering what to ask next, when the boy’s melody cut off abruptly.

  The blind boy turned his head toward Cale, hesitated, then spoke, his voice trembling faintly. “You… you’re from Earth, aren’t you?”

  Cale’s eyes widened, a jolt of shock rippling through him. “How did you—”

  “If you don’t mind,” the boy cut in, “how long’s it been? You know, since the whole… apocalypse thing?”

  The question hit Cale like a punch, surprise twisting into confusion. Earth? So I’m not the only one here? He squinted at the boy. “Wait—what do you mean, ‘how long’s it been’?”

  “I mean,” the boy said, his tone patient but edged with something raw, “how much time has passed between when the apocalypse started and when you ended up in this cell?”

  Silence fell over Cale as he mulled it over, his mind sifting through the chaos of the past year. Finally, he answered, “If we’re counting from the day they threw me in here… about one year and two months.”

  The boy tilted his head toward Cale, then dipped it to face the floor, lost in thought. His bony fingers brushed lightly over his left arm, tracing some unseen line before stilling. A weak, helpless smile curled his cracked lips. “Heh… guess I was just a month off, huh,” he muttered, more to himself than to Cale.

  With a sigh, he lifted his head, that faint smile lingering. “Thanks for that, Cale, right?”

  “Uh… yeah,” Cale replied, unease tightening his gut. There was something off about this kid—something he couldn’t pin down.

  “Oh, right!” The boy straightened slightly, as if remembering himself. “I forgot to introduce myself.” He extended a thin hand, and Cale tensed, not out of fear but from a nagging, unshakable disquiet.

  Just then, a flicker of light danced beyond the cell bars. One by one, torches along the prison hall fred to life, their golden fmes licking at the damp stone walls. Shadows stretched and writhed as the glow crept closer, until the final torch ignited, flooding the cell with dim, wavering light.

  Cale’s breath caught. The boy’s features sharpened under the torchlight— dark pale skin glowing like moonlight, stark against the loose, dark blue pyjamas draping his skeletal frame. But it was the boy’s Gsgow smile that unsettled Cale the most. It curled at the corners with dried blood decorated around his mouth, a wide, eerie expression that cked the warmth a smile should hold.

  The boy’s lips parted, his voice soft yet steady. “People call me LE756.” He paused, then continued “But you can call me Thorn.”

  Cale stared, that eerie smile searing into his mind, a feeling of Apprehension settling deep in his bones.

  When the boy smiled There was no malice, yet something about it left Cale with a lingering sense of unease