Part II
——
The swings creaked.
Kun kicked gently at the dirt, spinning a stick in lazy circles. Suho's feet dragged the sand, silent, staring off into the soft glow of afternoon haze.
Then—
A shadow stretched over them.
Footsteps. Slow. Too clean for a place like this.
A tall man in a long black coat approached the park. His polished shoes didn't match the dirt path. Neither did the sleek, angular shades covering his eyes. His coat shimmered faintly at the edges—stitched with a texture that looked too precise for fabric. No ID badge. No emblem. Just… wrong.
"Hello there, little ones."
Suho's swing came to a halt. He pushed backward slightly, subtle, his body tensing.
Kun stepped in front of him, arms wide like a tiny soldier. His grip on the stick tightened.
"Wh–who are you?" Kun asked, trying to sound bold. It came out more like a growl strangled in fear.
The man didn't answer at first. He just smiled—slow, deliberate.
"Hmm… You two. You look just like your father."
Both boys froze.
Suho blinked. Kun swallowed hard.
"F–father? But Mom said—"
"Ah," the man interrupted smoothly, lifting a hand. "No need to finish that."
Suho clutched the chain of the swing tighter, heart skipping.
The man took a step closer, then crouched—far too comfortably—so that his eyes, or what little showed behind those glasses, were level with theirs.
"I brought something for you," he said, and extended a gloved hand.
A small candy sat in his palm—wrapped in strange plastic, the color shifting like oil over water. Something about it shimmered like it wasn't fully part of this world.
"Go on. A gift."
Kun's brows pulled together. "We're not stupid. You're gonna kidnap us, aren't you?"
The man chuckled. No, not chuckled—burst.
Laughter tore out of him, unhinged and echoing through the empty park.
"Hahahaha! Kidnap you? No, no… if I wanted that, you wouldn't be standing here."
Kun flinched.
"But here," the man added, his voice suddenly calm again. "Just take it."
He held his hand out further.
Kun hesitated—then, slowly, reached toward the candy. Suho did the same, unsure, drawn by some pull he couldn't name.
The man moved fast.
He grabbed their wrists. One in each hand. Tight.
"Wha–HEY! Let go of us!!" Kun yelled, struggling against the grip.
Suho froze, then whimpered—his voice breaking into a cry. "L–let go!"
But the man didn't let go. Not right away.
Something pulsed under their skin. Not pain… but resonance. A twitch deep in the bone. Like a wire had just been connected.
Then—
"Done." He smiled, giving them a lazy thumbs-up.
Kun stumbled back, gripping his wrist. "W–what did you DO?!"
Suho's eyes filled with tears. His palm trembled, glowing faintly from within—too faint to notice unless you knew to look.
The man tilted his head, voice calm again.
"Nothing you'll remember. Not yet."
He patted both their heads, oddly gentle. Almost… fond.
"You'll need it, someday."
Then he stood, turned, and walked.
"Wait—HEY!" Kun shouted. "What the hell did you mean by that?!"
But the man didn't answer.
He vanished between trees like the park had swallowed him whole.
Kun stood there breathing hard, eyes locked on his palm. "Why does it feel weird…?"
Suho didn't respond. He was still crying—but softer now. Confused. Dazed.
In his open hand, the candy still sat there.
Untouched. Wrapped in that shifting, glitchy film.
The same one now in Kun's.
They didn't eat it.
They never would.
But sometimes, late at night…
It still felt warm.
——
The scent of chicken soup curled through the kitchen like memory.
Eliara stood over the stove, humming softly. Steam rose in ribbons as she stirred, her amber eyes catching the evening light that filtered through cracked windows. She moved with practiced grace—measured, steady. Every motion told a story: of dinners held together by laughter, of hands brushing flour off tiny cheeks, of warmth built in defiance of the cold city outside.
"They'll love this," she whispered.
Then, quieter—like a prayer no one else should hear:
"He should've been here too."
She stirred once more.
Then she froze.
A pulse of unease rippled through her chest. Something off. The kind of silence that wasn't empty—but waiting.
She turned off the flame. Stood still.
Far away, a boom echoed.
——
The park felt different.
Kun and Suho sat on the edge of the sandbox, knees pressed together. Neither spoke. The candy from earlier still rested in their palms, cold and wrong.
Suho looked up at his brother, lip trembling. "Kun… I'm scared. What is this?"
Kun didn't answer at first. He looked at the shifting wrapper, the strange way his skin tingled. He forced a smile—thin, cracked. "We'll ask Mom. She'll know what to do. Okay?"
Suho nodded.
Then—
BOOM.
The ground lurched.
A pressure wave slammed into their chests like an invisible hand. For a moment, even the birds forgot how to fly.
Screams. Smoke. Children scattered like leaves. Families yelled names. Drones shrieked overhead. Somewhere, a dog barked before going silent.
Kun grabbed Suho's arm, yanking him low. They crouched in the dirt, hands over their ears. Jet engines roared above them like gods of war passing judgment.
Suho sobbed, clinging to his brother's sleeve.
Kun looked at him—wide-eyed, heart thundering. "Come on! Mom's waiting for us!"
They ran.
Adults ran the other way.
"HEY! KIDS! NOT THAT WAY!" a man shouted. "IT'S NOT SAFE!"
They didn't stop.
The sky was gray, choking with smoke. The air tasted like metal and burning things. They passed shattered vendor stalls, overturned bikes, and—
a body. Crushed beneath rubble.
Another. A girl their age, unmoving.
He didn't cry yet.
Not because he wasn't broken—
But because the worst hadn't come.
Kun did. His jaw clenched.
They reached their street.
Their home—
Gone.
The building was collapsed in on itself, steel twisted like bone. Fires hissed in the ruins. Three Corrupted lurked in the wreckage, hunched over remains, tearing flesh from bone like animals.
Suho stopped moving. His legs folded beneath him. "M-Mom…" he whispered.
Kun froze too.
Then—"She's not there. She's not! Maybe she made it to a safe zone! She's smart, right?!"
Tears streaked his cheeks.
The monsters turned.
One by one, they looked up. Eyes like melted tar. Mouths twitching, stretching, jaws unhinging with a gurgle.
Suho stumbled backward. Kun grabbed his hand.
"Don't look! Don't—"
A vibration hit the ground.
Like something heavy descending.
A presence. A machine. A ship.
A voice behind them:
"Step aside, kids."
They turned.
A man stood there.
Sword slung over one shoulder—massive, jagged, humming faintly. Armor dented, matte black. The COUNTERS insignia burned into one gauntlet. His face was lined, eyes sharp—but tired. Sad.
Behind him, a battleship hovered low, engines whining. Four more figures disembarked. Armored. Weaponized. Calm.
A voice crackled through comms:
"Three Cat-3 COs ahead. Apex, you taking point?"
The man's gaze locked on the ruins. No answer.
He rolled his shoulders once. Sword came down.
"Yeah," he said. "Easy."
The COs roared.
And the brothers—covered in ash and shaking—watched as something like hope arrived.
Not salvation.
But the beginning of something else.
——
The earth shook.
The COs roared—three twisted beasts writhing in blood-soaked ruin. Black tendrils flailed from their backs. One leapt.
And the man moved.
Apex charged forward like a freight train made of grit and gravity. His massive blade cleaved the first CO clean through the chest—black fluid sprayed like oil under pressure.
The second lunged with needle-like limbs.
He dropped low, boots grinding sparks from rubble, and twisted—his blade carving through its torso with a violent shriek of steel on bone. The creature collapsed mid-screech, spasming into silence.
Only one remained.
The largest. It crouched, growling. Not attacking. Not yet.
Apex stared it down. He didn't speak. Just raised one hand.
Suho flinched.
The monster froze.
Its skin twitched. Then bubbled. Then—
POP.
Like a balloon full of gore.
It exploded—splattering chunks of rotting meat and wire across the ground.
Apex stood there, motionless, bathed in black and steam. The air hissed around him.
The ground still buzzed with the weight of his presence.
Kun stared, eyes wide, barely breathing.
This was it. The man from the video.
The one with the sword.
The dream that started everything.
The man turned.
He crouched slowly before the brothers, eyes flicking between them. His face, stained with blood and exhaustion, softened for just a breath.
His hand rested on their heads.
No words. Just a look—quiet, sad, knowing.
Then a voice crackled from the battleship behind them.
"Apex, we're out of time. Wrap it."
They heard the ship's engine hum. The ground rumbled again.
Suho trembled. Kun tightened his grip.
Apex exhaled through his nose.
Got up.
Turned.
Walked back toward the ship, every step heavier than the last. His blade dragged a line in the dirt.
Then he stopped at the ramp. Looked back.
And smiled—tired, worn.
"You'll make it."
He paused—like he wanted to say more, but knew he couldn't.
And just like that…
The man who broke monsters was gone.
The ship's thrusters ignited.
He disappeared into the belly of the beast.
A roar. Dust and wind.
And then the sky swallowed him.
——
"Oi!"
Kun's voice snapped through the haze.
Suho blinked. The car hummed beneath them—still moving, still real.
"Huh? What?"
Kun smirked lazily. "You daydreaming or getting cold feet?"
Outside, the Academy gates grew closer. White banners. Uniforms. A different world.
Suho didn't answer.
He just stared out the window—past the polished streets, past the clean light.
Back to the fire.
Back to the man who stayed.
Something had broken that day.
Not just the sky.
Something in them.