Skye stood off to the side, watching his team work. They were busy retrieving the bodies, and despite the pain from his injuries, he couldn’t stay down for long. After a few moments of rest, he slowly pushed himself to his feet.

  Freya caught sight of him and frowned. “You’re injured pretty badly, Skye. Don’t you want to take a break?”

  “It’s nothing. Just a scratch.” He straightened up, flexing his chest muscles, but the movement pulled at the deep wound on his waist. He winced and hissed through clenched teeth.

  Freya rolled her eyes. He always have to be the hero. But if he hadn't stepped in, they would've all been dead back there.

  Collecting the evidence and carefully inspecting the area,he walked back to the garbage mound, where the last traces of the dissolved infected remained. Pulling a cigarette from his pocket, he lit it and took a long drag, the smoke swirling around him.

  “What do you think of that kid, Axel?” he asked, his tone casual, but his eyes still sharp.

  Freya paused for a moment, thinking. Axel’s quiet demeanor had left an impression on her. "He’s got potential," she said after a beat. "If he had a better start in life, a solid foundation, he could probably become an awakener. He’s clever, resourceful. I’d say he’s got a bright future ahead of him."

  Skye didn’t respond right away, taking another drag from his cigarette. “Is that all?”

  Freya glanced at him, a little confused by the question. "What else should I say?"

  Skye sighed, tossing the cigarette butt to the ground and grinding it out with his boot. “It’s not that simple,” he muttered, more to himself than to Freya.

  Axel’s story had been smooth, too smooth, and that bothered him. Every detail was neatly in place, with no room for doubt. It was almost as if he had already anticipated every question Skye might ask. For someone so young, Axel had too much composure, too much control.

  Skye, a veteran of the Enforcement Bureau, knew when something didn’t sit right. But he wasn’t about to voice those just yet. After all, Axel had saved their lives. If Skye pushed too hard, Freya and the other team members would probably feel a little disappointed.

  “Maybe I’m overthinking it,” Skye said with a shrug, trying to dismiss the thought.

  As he spoke, the team fished out the remains of infected No. 2. The body was mostly dissolved, but the upper half remained intact. Mud caked over the decaying flesh, making it look even more grotesque. The team muttered under their breath, clearly disgusted by the sight.

  “This guy almost killed me,” one of them muttered angrily, taking a knife to the body and stabbing it a few more times, though the blade barely sank in.

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

  "This guy is so tough! I wish I could become an awakener someday." The team member's unintentional words made Skye's pupils shrink.

  He pushed past the others and crouched down to examine the infected’s skull. Despite the damage to its face, its skull was nearly intact, with only two bullet holes lodged deep inside. The rest of its body had been dissolved, but the brain—the most vital part—was still in one piece.

  He remembered what Axel had said earlier about the shooting, and a chill ran down his spine.

  Skye stood up quickly, his expression darkening. He called over Freya, pulling her aside to speak in low tones. Her face twisted in disgust as she listened, and she glared at him, clearly not thrilled by his request.

  “You can’t be serious,” she finally said, her voice sharp with disbelief. “You want me to… do that?”

  Skye’s gaze didn’t waver. He nodded, his jaw set. Freya hesitated, her eyes searching his face for a moment. Then, with an exasperated sigh, she relented. “Fine. But I’m not happy about this.”

  "I'm back..." Before he could say anything more, he was wrapped in a fragile, trembling hug.

  Annabelle, now dressed in a simple, patched linen skirt, clung to him. Her face was streaked with tears, and her hands—small and soft—gripped him helplessly at the waist.

  "Brother... did I... did I kill someone?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper, filled with fear and uncertainty.

  Axel’s heart softened at the sight. He glanced over at the table where a few side dishes, untouched earlier, sat cooling. It seemed Annabelle had reheated them, the faint fragrance still lingering in the air.

  Without saying a word, he gently ran his hand through her soft hair, trying to offer comfort. It took a while, but slowly, Annabelle calmed.

  "What’s going through your head? That was an infected person..." Axel began, but as soon as the words left his mouth, he realized the problem. Annabelle was an infected too. To her, they weren’t monsters—they were just people like her. He quickly corrected himself. "If you hadn’t done it, I would have been the one lying there. Do you want me to die?"

  Annabelle shook her head violently, her eyes filling with panic. "No, no! If you die... I—I..." Her words faltered as the thought of losing him hit her too hard, her eyes were red.

  "Then you did the right thing," Axel said quietly, his voice soft but full of understanding. He sighed inwardly. Annabelle was sharp, always picking up on his plans, always doing her best. But she was still just 13.

  He patted her head gently. "Come on, let’s eat. I’m starving."

  He reached for the old remote, his fingers brushing over the faded buttons. After a few tries, the screen flickered, showing static for a moment before the old cartoon series finally popped up. Axel smiled softly, the sound of the cartoon playing in the background.

  The two of them settled down on the worn-out sofa, their plates in hand. They ate quietly, the weight of the world momentarily forgotten as they lost themselves in the simple joys of shared meals and laughter.

  Annabelle, having been comforted by her brother’s presence, soon became engrossed in the humor of the cartoon. A smile played at the corners of her mouth, her giggles punctuating the scenes as she watched.

  Time passed, and without realizing it, the pair leaned against each other. Their exhaustion caught up with them, and they both drifted into sleep on the old fur-covered couch, wrapped up in each other’s warmth. In their tiny apartment, barely 30 square meters, they were just two lonely souls, clinging to one another for comfort.

  Outside the window, a figure silently watched the scene unfold. The person’s eyes were red, and after a long moment, she quietly powered off the camera and slipped away, leaving no trace. The figure bolted down the street, a mix of anger and confusion bubbling inside.

  Freya didn’t stop running until she found Skye, who was waiting at the street corner. He blinked in surprise when he saw her. "Back already? I thought you'd be longer."

  "Look at this. See for yourself.” She handed Skye the video footage. Skye watched in silence, his expression unreadable.