"My condolences, kid." Philip laid a gentle hand on Thomas's head.
Thomas sat hunched on the beach, knees pulled tight to his chest, head low. The crowd slowly dispersed. Phil left too. Tyler lingered, not wanting to go — but his parents called him away.
The only one who stayed — and even sat down beside Thomas — was Wilhelm. For a long time, he didn't say a word. He just stared out at the endless horizon, the sunrise washing their faces in gold.
"It's beautiful, you know?" Wilhelm murmured, eyes still on the sun.
Thomas didn't move. He just kept staring into the sand.
"No one's here, Tommy. Just you and me."
"Will?"
"Yeah?"
"I wanna like… stab something."
Wilhelm wasn't surprised. Sometimes, violence was the only way to breathe again.
"Hmph."
Thomas turned to Wilhelm, his eyes a pale, empty blue. "Can I go hunting with you?"
"You bet. When?"
"Like — right now."
"Sure." Wilhelm stood, brushing sand from his pants. He held out his hand. Thomas took it.
———
Thomas changed back into his usual clothes, a red and white t-shirt with black pants.
"Alright — bow and arrow are usually more effective," Nicole explained back at her house. "But some people prefer a sword or an axe. We've got it all here. Pick what you like."
Thomas glanced around. He was the son of a miner — his hands were used to swinging pickaxes. So the closest thing would be…
"I'll take the axe."
"Alright then. Will and I will handle the bows," Nicole said, tossing Wilhelm his bow. "Let's move."
———
They disappeared into the woods and walked for a long time, the only sounds the crunch of leaves and the whisper of wind.
"Hear that?" Nicole paused.
Thomas and Wilhelm froze, straining their ears.
Rustling.
"That's prey," Nicole whispered. She crept ahead, slipping behind a thick tree. She peeked out, eyes glinting. "Wild boar. A fat one, too — delicious with potatoes, but tough to kill."
Nicole drew her bow. Wilhelm did the same.
"If we miss, you jump that bastard," Wilhelm muttered to Thomas, who crouched behind them, axe gripped tight.
"Three… two… one… shoot."
**Thump. Thump. WHOOOSH. Thump.**
Only Nicole's arrow struck true — a clean shot through the heart. The boar squealed, staggering on its feet. It wouldn't last long. Nicole and Wilhelm knew that — they stayed put. But Thomas didn't care.
"Tommy, it's dead!"
Thomas didn't hear. He charged, roaring. "ARGHHHHH!"
He brought the axe down hard on the dying boar's back. And he didn't stop. Thomas ripped the axe free, raised it high, slammed it down again — and again — and again. Each strike sent blood spraying in arcs. His breathing turned to snarls, then to wordless growls.
**THWACK.**
**THWACK.**
**THWACK.**
Blood drenched his arms, his chest, his face. The boar's squeals ended quickly — the sounds that followed were just the wet cracks of bones shattering. One final swing split the skull wide.
"Tommy…" Wilhelm whispered. He stood frozen. Nicole just watched, lips tight. She'd expected something like this.
Thomas fell to his knees in the blood-soaked grass, gasping for breath. The ruined carcass steamed in the dawn air.
Wilhelm stepped forward anyway, ignoring the gore. He laid a hand on Thomas's trembling shoulder.
"Tommy… let's get you cleaned up. Come on — let's head back, yeah?"
Thomas gasped out a breath, tugging at his own hair. "…Goddamn it…"
"I'll carry this," Nicole said calmly. "If you want to keep going, Tommy, Will can handle leading the hunt."
Wilhelm almost smiled when realising his mother acknowledged his skills as a hunter, but it faded quickly due to the situation.
Nicole pulled on gloves, heaved the carcass into a basket. "Go on. The hunt's not over," she encouraged gently.
"Come on, Tommy." Wilhelm tugged Thomas up by the wrist, guiding him back through the trees.
———
Philip had just returned to his farm, cutting across rows of tall corn. The sun was high now, so he wore his old straw hat.
It should have been a peaceful walk home, but something bright hit his eyes — so bright it nearly blinded him. It wasn't the sun. It was something else, hidden within the fields.
Frowning, Philip shielded his face and pushed through the stalks until he found the source of the blinding light.
"Huh?"
———
Nicole gave Wilhelm and Thomas space to be alone together. Thomas still needed to blow off steam — and Wilhelm would keep him safe in the wild.
"Tommy?"
Thomas froze. His face looked like he'd seen a ghost. A wolf was standing ahead of him — a beautiful white wolf, locking eyes with Thomas in a silent stare.
"Oh shit. We should back up." Wilhelm tugged at Thomas's shirt, but Thomas wouldn't budge.
Instead, Thomas lifted his axe, ready for a fight. The wolf's fur glowed like fresh snow — an odd sight for summer.
Suddenly, the bushes behind the wolf rustled. Startled, the wolf darted away in light, silent steps, vanishing into the underbrush.
"Whoa…" Wilhelm breathed. But Thomas didn't relax — he stepped forward, advancing on the bushes with his axe held high.
"Tommy! Even the wolf ran off — it's probably dangerous!"
Thomas ignored him, pushing closer, shoulders tense.
Pink fur. No… pink hair. It was a man.
"Huh?"
"What the hell?" Wilhelm whispered.
A man crouched in the bushes, clothes ragged, glaring at them. His hair was unmistakably pink.
"Why is your hair pink?" Wilhelm blurted out.The man said nothing — he just stared back, tense and ready to run.
"You lost? From Xelz, I'm guessing?" Wilhelm tried again.
"Speak up!" Thomas barked, lifting his axe higher.
"Whoa, Tommy — relax. He's just a dude. Probably a lost hunter."
"I'm not from wherever you just said," the stranger answered, his voice sharp and rough.
"New Angeles, then?"
"I don't know where that is, either."
"Then where did you come from?"
"He puts the axe down, and I'll tell you."
"Not happening," Thomas growled. "Not until you talk."
"And why is your hair pink?" Wilhelm added.
The man sighed. "This might be disrespectful, but allow me to speak on equal grounds." He reached behind himself — and drew a sword.
"WHOA WHOA HEY HEY HEY!" Wilhelm stumbled back and drew his bow.
"It's for self-defense — please understand." The man held up the blade. Sunlight caught the edge — it gleamed so bright it scattered into colors, dazzling them both.
Wilhelm's jaw dropped. "Is that…?"
The entire sword was made of pure diamond.
Thomas's eyes narrowed. "Where did you come from?"
"I… I don't know." The man's shoulders fell. His glare melted into confusion.
"What do you mean you don't know?"
"I don't remember."
Thomas almost felt pity. The man seemed and sounded genuinely lost.
"Tommy…" Wilhelm hissed, leaning in close. "That sword could be traded for like, like… so much good shit."
Thomas shot him a look. "You're not saying—"
"Obviously I'm not saying kill him — but maybe, like… negotiate? We trade it off, split the profit, give him half—"
Thomas turned back immediately. "That sword — is it for trade?"
"What?" The man blinked. "Absolutely not."
"Didn't work," Thomas muttered.
"Yeah, great negotiation, man."
"Let's just go." Thomas lowered his axe. "We're leaving."
"Wait!" the man called out. "I don't know where I am. I don't know who I am. I haven't eaten in days. Please…"
"You really don't know anything?"
He shook his head. "No home, no friends, nothing."
Even Thomas had to admit — that story was hard to hate. "Where'd you get that sword?"
"I don't know."
"Why's your hair pink?"
"I don't know."
"Oh." Wilhelm looked disappointed. "That's underwhelming."
"You got a name at least?" Thomas asked.
"…I think I'm called Alexander."
Thomas lowered his axe. "Put your sword away and you can come with us."
Alexander hesitated, then sheathed the sword in an elegant leather scabbard by his waist. "Thank you."
"This is unsettling," Wilhelm muttered. There were only three known towns: Xelz City, New Angeles, and Saisei. If he wasn't from any of them — where had he come from?
"Keep three swords' worth of distance from us," Thomas said.
Alexander nodded.
"We'll call you Alex," Wilhelm said with a faint grin.
———
"I know you said you're hungry — can you wait about an hour? My mom's making dinner." They were back in Saisei, with Alexander trailing behind.
"That's fine," Alexander said quietly. He kept three meters behind as Thomas and Wilhelm walked side by side.
"Should we report this to Ijichi?" Wilhelm whispered.
"After dinner."
"But where's he staying for now?"
Thomas glanced at him, then looked away. He knew a place that had just become painfully empty.
"He'll stay with me."
"What?!" Wilhelm hissed, keeping his voice low. "Did you see that sword? He might be dangerous."
"I'm not gonna lose a fight to him. Look at him."
"Dude, what are you talking about? He's built like a statue! You're 5'6"! And what if he stabs you in your sleep?"
Alexander's voice drifted up from behind. "I assure you, I mean no harm."
"You heard us?!" Wilhelm snapped.
"What?"
"Never mind." Thomas sighed. "Come on — you're staying with me."
———
"Put your sword down too," Thomas said as they stepped inside.
"No, it's fine," Alexander replied, standing awkwardly in the doorway.
"Seriously, just get in here."
Alexander stepped inside. The house was simple but warm — shelves stacked with books, a crackling fireplace, a few scattered relics from Thomas's grandparents. Alexander's eyes caught on an empty bed — Thomas's gaze was fixed on it too.
"Put the sword down."
"I'd rather not," Alexander said softly, hand still on the hilt.
"You don't know who you are. You don't know where you came from. So what do you remember?" Thomas sank onto the bed, staring at the floor.
Alexander stared at the flames for a second. "I woke up in the forest. There was a white wolf — it was beautiful — but it ran from me. I chased it until I found you."
"Hmph." Thomas crossed his arms. "You don't look dangerous."
"I'm not."
"You just really like that sword, then?"
Alexander didn't answer.
"You know where you are now? This is Saisei — one of the Three Lands Around the Lake. After dinner we'll hand you over to our town leader, Ijichi. He'll figure out what to do with you."
"May I sit?"
"Sure."
Alexander sat on a wooden chair in the corner. "Please don't hand me over. I don't want to waste your town leader's time. I can hunt — I'm good at it. Let me work for you. I'll earn my food and shelter."
Thomas shrugged. "That's not my call. I'm only eighteen. We'll let the grown-ups decide."
He stood and pulled a battered book off the shelf.
"That's The Theory of Forces," Alexander said, tilting his head.
Thomas paused. "Yeah. How do you know that? You can't even read the title — the cover's fucked."
Alexander looked confused. "I don't know."
Thomas frowned, then carried the book to his room. Just before closing the door, he called back, "Stay put. Dinner's soon. Hold on a bit longer."
"Okay."
Thomas shut the door behind him. He set the book on his desk, then noticed the small circular metal plate lying on his bed — the one his grandmother had left him.
"Damn it…" he muttered, picking it up. He pressed it to his ear — nothing. No whisper, no clue. "Tsk."
Then he saw it — tiny words etched into the metal.
He read aloud. "Your second drawer, Tommy."
Frowning, Thomas crossed to his old dresser and yanked open the second drawer. "What the fuck is this…?" he breathed.
A small metal box lay in the drawer, rectangular and cold to the touch, its surface etched with strange textures. On top, a yellowed slip of paper read: "Insert the disc here." With an arrow pointed to a slim slot.
"Disc?" Thomas frowned. He slid the metal disc inside. A static hiss answered him.
Tssskkkkk… tssskkkkk…
"What the hell—?"
Then a voice, faint at first — then unmistakable.
"Hello? Hello?"
Thomas jolted back, falling to the floor. It was his grandmother's voice.
"This is… a recording of my experience. Richard, Shelby — or maybe even Tommy — if you're listening, I hope you're doing just fine in life."
Thomas's heart thudded in his ears. Slowly, he leaned closer, understanding what the 'disc' really was.
"I want you to know, first and foremost… I loved you all. Truly. You are my purpose in life. It is because of you that I found life beautiful. Even though, sometimes… I do miss the land without st—"
Thomas slammed the 'STOP' button. Silence filled the room. His chest felt hollow.
"You are my purpose in life."
Those words echoed in his mind like a curse. He couldn't find his own purpose — not anymore. Everything around him was gone. He'd once thought he was alive to care for his grandmother. Now, that anchor was gone, too.
"Goddamn it," Thomas whispered, burying his face in his hands.
———
At Wilhelm's house, dinner was waiting hot on the table.
Thomas stepped into the dining room, stiff-backed. "Brought a guest."
Wilhelm gulped down water awkwardly at the table.
Alexander followed two paces behind. "Good evening."
"Uh… who's this?" Philip asked.
"Yeah…?" Nicole added, glancing at Thomas.
"Alex. Found him in the woods. He's hungry," Thomas said flatly, dropping into a seat.
"Shouldn't we tell Ijichi?" Nicole asked, brows furrowing.
"It's fine. Alex will work for us. Extra hands — why not?" Thomas said.
"Tommy…" Tyler spoke up, his tone careful. "Are you sure?"
"Show them," Thomas said, nodding to Alexander.
Alexander drew the diamond sword, coloured refracted light rays sprayed everywhere.
A stunned silence. Then —
"OH MY GOD!" Nicole gasped.
Tyler's jaw dropped, too.
"That's insane," Philip muttered, eyes wide.
"He's a good hunter," Thomas said again, as if that explained everything. Alexander sheathed the sword and stood awkwardly until Nicole gestured at an empty seat.
"Oh, please — sit down. There's plenty of deer left from yesterday."
After Alexander settled in, Nicole tried again. "So… where are you from?"
Thomas answered for him, "He doesn't know. Probably fell, hit his head, lost his memory. Read about that once — it happens."
"Oh."
An awkward hush fell over the table. Somewhere outside, a crow cawed.
Finally, Tyler broke the silence. "So… I'll be leaving for the election in New Angeles tomorrow. Anyone coming to vote?"
"Can I use the horse?" Wilhelm asked Nicole.
"Of course."
"YES!" Wilhelm grinned.
"Just remember to be safe and stick with Tyler and his parents."
"I will, Mom."
"I'll take my dad's horse and go, too," Thomas said.
"I'll pass," Philip said. He pointed his fork at Alexander. "But if you're going, Tommy — what about him?"
Thomas shrugged. "Mom had a horse, too. He knows how to ride — right?"
"I do," Alexander said.
"Good. He's coming."
"Why?" Wilhelm asked, baffled.
"Because — what else would he do? I'm not leaving him here with your mom. He's my responsibility."
Philip laughed. "Hah! Look at you — finally taking responsibility for something."
Wilhelm nudged Tyler. "So it's the three of us going with you."
"I expect your full support," Tyler said dryly.
"You know you'll get it. I'll always be behind you."
———
Back at Thomas's house, the door creaked open. He and Alexander stepped inside, both glancing at the empty bed by the fireplace.
"You're not sleeping there," Thomas said quietly. He pointed to the corner. "You're sleeping on the chair."
Alexander didn't argue. "Alright."
Thomas doused the lamp and retreated to his room without another word. Alexander could sense something broken in him — but it wasn't his place to ask. So he settled into the hard wooden chair and closed his eyes.
———
In the darkness, Thomas tossed and turned. His face twisted in his sleep.
In his dream, heat pressed in from all sides. Flames roared around him. He was lying on burning ground, gasping for air, people screaming in the distance.
"Tommy…" A distant cry called his name.
**THUMP.**
An arrow struck dirt, barely missing his head — or so he thought. He sat bolt upright, drenched in cold sweat. Moonlight poured through the window.
"Fuck…" He rubbed his forehead, trying to steady his breath.
He stumbled into the kitchen, pouring water down his throat in desperate gulps. His eyes flicked to the front door. It was unlocked. "I swear I locked that," he muttered.
A voice drifted from the shadows. "Something's not right, is it?"
"Alex?"
Alexander stood half-hidden behind the wall, sword already drawn, its diamond edge catching the moonlight.
Thomas felt it too — a wrongness in the air. Something was off. Items out of place. A smell that shouldn't be there. Instinctively, Thomas grabbed his axe.
**Creak.**
It was his bedroom door.
He spun toward it — and the air split.
**Whoosh.**
A dagger flew at his head. He ducked, but the blade sliced a shallow line across his cheek.
Inside the room, a masked figure stepped forward — hood low, face wrapped in dark cloth, moving like a ghost in the gloom.
"WHO ARE YOU?!" Thomas roared, swinging his axe. The figure dodged, driving a fist into Thomas's gut.
"Oof—!" The intruder drew a sword, its point flashing toward Thomas's throat — but a diamond edge met it with a metallic screech.
**CLANK!**
Alexander's blade knocked the intruder's sword wide. The clash sent sparks dancing through the dark.
Thomas gasped for breath on the floor as Alexander stepped past him. His strikes were sharp, brutal. The masked man ducked and weaved — each dodge a heartbeat from death.
A shelf toppled. Books scattered. The wall dented under a wild swing. The masked man backpedaled toward the door, stumbling in panic.
**Whoosh. THUMP.**
Alexander's final swing split the front door in half — and carved off the man's right pinky. A hiss of pain, then the figure lunged through the ruined doorway, vanishing into the night.
Alexander stopped on the threshold, chest heaving. One half of the door still clung to its hinges. The other lay in the grass.
He caught a glimpse of what the masked man clutched as he fled — a small metal disc.