Youth is a marvelous thing—bodies at their peak, strength overflowing, minds quick to learn and adapt, and time abundant enough that even great mistakes can be undone.
If placed into a world like this, the young are like raw iron—shapeless, but full of potential, able to be forged into anything.
But the old… they are like dulled, chipped blades, worn down by countless uses. Their bodies carry the dust of the previous world. And so, death always comes for them first.
After the horrifying scene in the nest-like cave, the three of them had finally escaped—running through the forest with the monsters still chasing behind. They fled in the same direction, but each of them was in a completely different state.
Thành Dũng was exhausted beyond belief. His body felt hollow, ready to collapse at any moment. Ignoring the pain tearing through him, he focused only on survival—running as if his life depended on each step, because it did.
Uncle Bách was injured too, but his greatest enemy was not his wounds—
It was age.
His legs no longer moved how he wished; his breath came in ragged gasps. The only reason he forced himself to keep running was because he knew the two kids behind him were good people. If he were to fall… he knew they would come back for him.
And that might kill all of them.
He lived with the responsibility of an old soldier—always had, always would.
Linh Nhi was in the best condition—no injuries, clear-headed, and alert. She ran ahead of them like a guiding flame… though the fear of dying gnawed at her with every step.
But despite their best efforts, the pain burning inside Thành Dũng grew worse. His steps slowed. His breathing became shaky, sharp, as if his lungs were being torn apart. His limbs felt like jelly.
And finally—
He fell.
Face-first into the dirt, his vision flickering, his body filthy and pitiful.
Uncle Bách noticed first. Without hesitation—despite the monsters not far behind—he rushed back toward the boy. He reached out, trying to pull him up.
"Get up, damn it—Dũng!! I'll carry you!"
But Dũng said nothing.
Instead, he pushed Uncle Bách's hand away—refusing his help.
Seeing this foolishness, Uncle Bách erupted. He cursed more fiercely than Dũng had ever heard in his life—rage mixed with something trembling beneath it, something that felt like sorrow.
"How stupid can you be, Dũng?! What are you, a damn mutt?! Move—MOVE, boy!"
At that moment, Linh Nhi realized they were no longer behind her. She turned back—and saw everything: the monsters closing in, Uncle Bách trying to help, and Thành Dũng weakly pushing him away.
Her eyes flashed with fury.
She sprinted back toward them.
Without hesitation, she grabbed Thành Dũng's arm and yanked him to his feet so hard he staggered. Then, without warning—
SLAP!
Her palm landed square on his cheek, leaving a bright red imprint.
"If you want to die, then go die somewhere else!!
Don't you dare stay here and make yourself a burden to us!"
She screamed at him—her voice shaking with fear, anger, and desperation.
Then, without caring about her own image, ignoring the weakness of her smaller frame, she turned around, crouched slightly—
—and lifted him onto her back.
Thành Dũng blinked in shock. He hadn't even realized what she was doing until he was already off the ground, cradled against her back. But he was too worn out to resist. His eyes closed, and he let her carry him.
Uncle Bách followed behind them, mind tangled with memories—something in this moment had pierced deep into an old wound he had long tried to bury. But there was no time for reflection.
The only thing to do was run.
So he pushed everything aside—pain, fear, grief—and kept running after the two of them.