A few hours later, Adam and the others stirred awake, pulled from uneasy sleep by a strange, pungent stench—something between burning coal and charred meat. It was the kind of smell that clung to your lungs, like meat left to roast in a scorched oven for hours.
I was the first to rise and look outside. Yuri turned away from the window, instinctively shielding the kids eyes. Yoku and I stared ahead down, frozen.
The city was gone.
Settlements still burned. A massive automaton lay collapsed in the distance, melted and motionless. The streets were carved open, concrete blackened and split with heat. Craters of gas and scorched carbon filled the earth. Buildings—once proud—now stood like hollowed skeletons, turning darker by the minute.
And the people... their bodies were shredded, some still frozen in place. A boy and a man—perhaps father and son—held hands as if in comfort, their bones fused together by the blast. Others were scattered, grotesquely contorted, floating in what remained of a dried-up riverbed, their forms merging into something unnatural—an abomination.
Adam held his breath, trying to push it all down.
"I hate this world... Why does this keep happening?"
He wanted to believe he could've stopped it—but deep down, he knew. There was nothing he could do. It was exhausting. He pressed his forehead against the train window. Sweat beaded, evaporated, and vanished in the unbearable heat.
Yoku covered his mouth. Yuri didn't speak—just looked away.
"Hey, Adam... do you thi—" Yoku began.
Suddenly, a faint hum broke the silence. A surveillance automaton hovered above, locking onto movement. It blinked, registering life.
A high-pitched whine followed.
A blinding laser fired.
The emergency brakes screamed as the train jolted. AI protocols kicked in—too late. We were already flying off the rails.
The cat sensing the doom... probably that's what cat just do, Berto, yowled and scrambled onto Adam's head.
Adam's vision blurred—flashes of red, smoke, light. The train left the tracks, weightless in freefall. And for a moment... there was peace.
"So this is what it feels like to know you're going to die..."
Yoku grabbed me and Yuri. She held the children tightly, Yoku prosthetic arm hissing to life, extending toward the collapsing track supports. We dangled mid-air—falling, screaming.
Electricity surged through my muscles, snapping my body to action. I grabbed Yoku's mechanical arm and launched us toward the wreckage-strewn tracks.
Cough. Cough.
Dust filled my lungs. I stumbled, yelling, "Run!"
We ran, feet pounding against steel. Mino was coughing violently, her breath ragged. I lifted her into my arms and sprinted, dodging bullets and searing lasers. Shouts and gunfire surrounded us.
Then—I saw him.
A strange figure. A medium-built man draped in thick garments, his face masked in black. In his hands: a long whip. He pointed toward us.
Is this it?
He cracked the whip toward the rails—igniting the track behind us in an explosion. Flames engulfed the pursuing automatons.
As we tumbled forward, he lunged and grabbed us, his fingers scarred, cratered like dry earth. They wrapped around us with strength forged in suffering.
He coughed violently, blood splattering into his hand. His scarf covered a skull-like face. His skin was tight and like poli, his head bald, neck unnaturally fused. An old eyeglass gleamed over one eye.
He said nothing. Just turned, breath ragged, and pointed ahead.
We hesitated. I stared at him, confused.
Was this... end?
A few hours later, we sat in silence. The unknown man sat across from us by a makeshift fire, feeding it with broken wood, plastic scraps, and polyester. His presence was heavy, but not hostile.
He stirred the fire with a stick.
I sat nearby, still shaken. Who is this man? He saved us... but why?
Kineki leaned closer and asked gently, "Hey... do you talk?"
Mino smacked him. "He can't, dummy. Can't you see?"
The man coughed again and looked away.
With the stick, he scribbled something into the dust:Fiver.
A robotic bird, sleek and silent, fluttered down and perched on his shoulder. It clicked and emitted a monotone voice:
"Hello. I'm Fiver. As you can see... I can't speak."
Fiver glanced toward the burning city in the distance—gasoline fires still bleeding from the destroyed automatons.
"I'm guessing you're not from here. But if you are…"
He stayed silent
The silent hum of peace lingered.
Adam was growing tired of it.
Peace—then chaos. Safety—then another brush with death. Over and over again, like a cruel joke on repeat. He stared blankly into the scorched horizon.
"I don't even know what's ahead anymore... Can the future just—wait?"The thought echoed in his skull like static.
Then Mino broke the silence.
"We're going to the very top of the Stratum, mister," she said softly, her voice laced with innocent boldness. "Do you want to come with us?"
Yoku flinched. He didn't like this. The man was still a stranger. A silent, masked anomaly. And now this reckless child was inviting him?
But... weren't they all strangers once?
Fiver looked at them quietly. Then shook his head.
"I'll follow for now," he said through the bird's synthetic voice, "but I cannot go to the top of the Stratum."
"Why not?" Kineki asked, his curiosity peeking through the ash and fear.
The fire crackled. A long pause.
Then the response came—calm, cold, and resolute:
"Because I have something I must finish.
I have to kill all the automatons."