Silas slammed into the ground as the explosion roared behind him.
For a moment, the world lost its shape.
His ears rang violently, a sharp, endless screech that drowned out every other sound. Dust filled his lungs. The floor beneath him trembled as debris continued to fall from above. His vision blurred, lights flashing at the edges of his sight as tears streamed down his face without him realizing it.
He tried to move.
Pain answered him immediately.
A hand grabbed his arm.
Silas flinched—then realized it was Hamza.
Hamza's grip was firm, almost desperate. His voice trembled as he spoke, low but urgent.
"He sacrificed himself for us," Hamza said. "This is not the place for us to die too. We have to move."
Silas turned toward him, his chest tightening.
"Why did you come back?" Silas shouted, his voice breaking. "Why did you stay with me?!"
His words poured out like poison he had been holding inside.
"I'm a curse," Silas screamed. "Anyone who comes near me dies! Go away—both of you! If you stay with me, you'll die too! I don't even know why I was born. I was never meant for this world. I'm not a miracle… I'm poison!"
His body shook as he yelled, grief and fear twisting together until he could no longer tell them apart.
Before he could say anything more—
Slap.
Hamza struck him across the face.
Silas froze.
Hamza stared at him, eyes sharp, voice cold but heavy with something deeper.
"Do you think people choose how they're born?" Hamza said.
"Do you think we're lucky?"
He stepped closer.
"You think you're the only one cursed? You think suffering belongs only to you?"
Hamza clenched his fists.
"You can feel pain," he said quietly. "But we can't."
Silas looked at him, confused.
"We are like shells," Hamza continued. "We don't feel pain. We don't feel fear the way you do. We don't cry."
His voice lowered.
"You can cry," Hamza said. "We can't."
Silas's breath caught.
"Don't stare at what you lack," Hamza went on. "Or the trouble you carry. The real curse… is living without pain, without sorrow, without feeling anything at all."
He turned slightly, looking away.
"You have power and emotion," Hamza said. "But listen to me—never tell anyone that you can feel pain. People don't like those who are different. They don't forgive those who surpass them."
Silas finally understood.
That was why Ripper and Hamza never cried.
That was why their faces never changed.
They weren't heartless.
They were empty.
"Move!" Ripper shouted from ahead. "Get to the vehicle! They're coming!"
Silas and Hamza ran.
Their footsteps echoed through the ruined passage as they reached the armored vehicle waiting in the shadows. The engine roared to life as they climbed inside.
As they sped away, Ripper frowned.
"They stopped chasing us," he said. "But how do they keep finding us?"
Silas swallowed.
"…It's because of me," he said quietly.
Hamza pulled out a small, insect-like device—metallic, thin, twitching slightly as if alive. He brought it close to Silas.
The creature suddenly emitted a sharp sound.
Hamza's expression darkened.
"A GBS tracker," he said. "Implanted inside your body."
Silas felt cold spread through his chest.
No matter where he ran—
They would always know.
---
Far away, in the darkness, a man dressed in black stood watching multiple holographic screens.
He smiled.
"The boy escaped," he said calmly. "But he doesn't understand."
He turned away, his cloak blending into the shadows.
"He was released," the man continued. "Not allowed to escape."
His smile widened.
"Walk forward, little one. One day… you'll become a tool for destroying the very people who saved you."
With that, he vanished into the darkness.