Starless woke with a start.
The shelter was quiet. Empty. Just him.
Loneliness hit deep, pressing into his chest, sharp and heavy.
From outside came the low rumble of trash trucks, engines growling across the streets.
The smell hit him next. Rot, metal, decay—a stench that clawed at his throat.
He crawled to the edge of his shelter, peeking through a gap in the trash bag.
The trucks were moving slowly, doors opening to spill hundreds of heaps of garbage onto the ground.
Mountains of trash tumbled down, metal, plastic, broken furniture, all colliding with the mud.
Starless swallowed hard, taking in the sight. The dumpsite stretched endlessly, a chaotic sea of waste under the weak morning light.
Starless groaned, rubbing his face.
"Every damn day…" he muttered, voice rough. "Never ends, does it?"
He peeked again at the trucks. "Look at all that… where's it all even coming from?"
A rat scurried past, and he jumped back. "Not even scared of me, huh?" he muttered bitterly.
He crouched low, watching the piles grow. "Great… more to dig through… more to survive."
The smell made him gag. "Ugh… I can't… I can't even breathe properly."
He let his head fall against his knees. "Why's it always like this… why me?"
The rumble of engines faded as the trucks moved on. Starless sighed, bitter and tired. "Guess it's just me again… all alone."
Starless crawled back onto his cardboard bed, exhaustion weighing him down.
He pulled the thin mat closer, trying to block out the noise, the stench, the emptiness.
Sleep came, shallow and restless, but the world didn't stop.
Hundreds of trash trucks rumbled through the streets, engines low and grating, dumping more mountains of refuse onto the ground.
By morning, he was completely spent, muscles aching, eyes burning.
He grabbed an old, tattered pillow, pressed it to his face, and screamed.
A raw, ragged scream that tore from his chest, releasing everything—pain, anger, loneliness, despair.
The sound bounced off the metal and mud around him, but no one was there to hear.
When he finally lowered his head, his shoulders shook, and silence returned—only the smell and the heaps of trash remained.
Starless climbed out of his trash bag shelter, pulling the wet coat back over his shoulders for a moment before shrugging it off.
The shoes he had bought a few days ago clung to his feet, scuffed but solid.
He tugged on a worn T-shirt, black with a skull painted across the front, the edges frayed.
Glancing at a cracked wristwatch, he frowned. 5 a.m.
He cupped his hands in a puddle of grimy water and splashed his face, trying to wake his body fully.
The streets were quiet but buzzing faintly with early activity.
He stepped toward the city, moving carefully through narrow alleys, past discarded trash and the lingering smell of decay.
He passed neon signs, shuttered shops, and glowing advertisements, eyes scanning for any chance, any opportunity.
Maybe today… maybe today I can find something, he thought, jaw tight, stepping forward.
He walked along the streets, searching for work, keeping his head down, and his eyes sharp.
Starless went from shop to shop, door after door, hopeful at first.
Hundreds of employees glanced at him, barely hiding annoyance.
"You're too young," one said, shaking his head.
"Not qualified," another muttered, waving him away.
Each rejection weighed heavier than the last, his legs dragging, his arms sore.
By lunchtime, his energy was gone. Every step felt like walking through cement.
He wandered into a small park, ignoring the laughter and chatter around him.
He collapsed onto a worn bench, staring up at the pale sky, clouds streaked with early light.
After a moment, a shadow appeared beside him.
Another teenage boy, pale and tired, sat down quietly.
His eyes were heavy, his clothes worn, and he let out a soft sigh.
He didn't speak at first, just letting the silence stretch between them.
Starless shifted slightly, glancing at the boy.
"Hi, bro… everything cool?" he asked quietly.
The teen shook his head, shoulders slumping. "Nah… no. Everyone's messed up."
Starless didn't answer right away. He let his eyes drift back to the sky, pale morning light stretching across the clouds.
"I get that feeling," he said after a moment, voice soft but steady. "More than anyone, I think."
Starless leaned back on the bench, shoulders heavy, and let the words spill out.
"Everyone keeps looking down at me," he said, voice low, shaking slightly, "like I'm trash… with pity… with disgust."
A bitter laugh escaped him. "Can't blame them, though," he added, shaking his head.
The teen let out a frustrated groan. "I've been looking for a job all morning… but everyone keeps saying I'm underqualified or too young."
Starless nodded slowly, eyes still fixed on the sky.
"Me too," he said, voice quiet but firm. "Me too."
Starless turned toward the boy, a small, tired smile tugging at his lips.
"You know… maybe we should be friends," he said, voice calm but carrying a spark.
The boy looked at him, surprise flickering across his face. Then a slow grin spread, sharp and unafraid.
He held out his fist.
Starless smirked, bumping it firmly.
"I'm Kael," the boy said, voice steady, eyes bright despite exhaustion.
"Kael… good name," Starless replied, nodding once, letting the words settle between them. "I'm Starless."
Kael leaned back, scanning the park with a lazy grin. "No fear, huh? Not even of this dump?"
Starless chuckled, eyes glinting. "Fear's for people who don't care to survive. I learned that much."
Kael laughed, sharp and clear, letting the sound cut through the early morning quiet.
"You look like you've been through hell," Kael said, nudging him lightly.
"Hell's nothing new," Starless replied, voice low, almost a whisper. "You learn to walk through it and keep your head up."
Kael nodded, fists tapping together once more. "Then I guess we're walking through it together."
Starless let the words hang in the air, cinematic in the pale light of the rising sun, two silhouettes against the dumpsite, neither yielding, neither afraid.
Kael pushed himself up from the bench, brushing the dirt from his clothes.
"Come on," he said, motioning toward the city. Starless followed, boots crunching against wet trash and cracked pavement.
After a few steps, Starless glanced at him. "How… how can someone even become an Awakener?"
Kael's eyes darkened slightly, a shadow passing over his face. "They're not called Awakeners," he said quietly, voice low. "They're called Ascenders. Awakener is just a name… something they use to make people feel safe."
Starless froze for a moment, his chest tightening. "Wait… really?"
Kael nodded, scanning the street around them. "Yeah. Safe is just a word. Reality's something else entirely."
Starless hesitated, then asked, voice shaking slightly, "Can I… can I ask a question about the dumpsite?"
Kael glanced at him, raising an eyebrow. "Hmm… yeah. Sure."
"Why… why do those Ascenders kill the kids in the dumpsite once a while?" Starless whispered, the words heavy, almost choking him.
Kael's face didn't change. He looked ahead, silent for a long moment, before replying in a flat, chilling tone.
"Because to them… nothing there matters. Not the trash, not the kids, not anyone like us. They erase what they consider weak. What they call unworthy."
Starless' smile vanished, leaving only a hard line across his face.
"Don't lie to me, Kael," he said, voice low but steady, eyes narrowing. "There's a hidden motive behind all of this… I can feel it."
He kicked at a loose piece of metal on the ground, watching it tumble into the shadows.
"I'll find it out… sooner or later," he added, voice firm, almost like a vow, the weight of determination settling over him.
Night had fallen over the dumpsite, shadows stretching long and dark.
The white-haired woman moved silently between the piles of trash, her steps precise, almost ghostlike.
A small child stumbled in the distance, unaware of her presence, clutching a tattered toy.
She stopped, eyes cold, calculating, and in a heartbeat, struck.
The child never cried. The world around them stayed silent, indifferent.
She stepped back, letting the body slump into the mud, her expression unreadable beneath the pale hair falling over her face.
The moonlight caught the edge of her blade as she melted into the darkness again, leaving only the quiet horror of the dumpsite behind.