The soldier stared at the boy for a while, his eyes fixed on him, but his mind was elsewhere, lost in thought.
After a brief silence
"What's your name?"
The boy looked slightly confused, scratching the side of his forehead with his hand.
"Beloka… it is"
The soldier stepped closer and placed a hand on the boy's shoulder.
"Listen carefully, boy,"
"Do you know what Mano Energy is?"
The boy looked a little confused, his eyebrows drawing downward as he struggled to remember if he had ever heard of it.
But nothing came to mind—he had never heard it before.
"No,"
The soldier let out a quiet sigh, tension flickering across his face.
but he masked it with a faint, forced smile.
"Okay… no worries."
"Do you have a knife or anything sharp? Something pointed or edged?"
The boy rolled his eyes upward, forcing himself to remember.
Then, slowly nodding his head.
"Yeah… I have something. Not exactly a knife, though."
A faint smile appeared on the soldier's face, his lips curling slightly upward.
For a moment, the fear drained from his body, replaced by a flicker of hope.
But it lasted only briefly.
He looked at the boy.
"Go get it."
The boy returned with two objects in hand.
One was a sharp-edged piece of iron—roughly the height of a human head—crudely shaped into a blade and tied to a short wooden log with a strip of torn cloth.
The other was a long, needle-like piece of sharpened wood, about 30 centimeters in length.
The soldier looked at the objects, his expression shifting to slight disappointment.
"That's it?"
The boy, a bit confused, simply nodded.
"Yeah."
The soldier let out a sigh.
"Fine… it's better than nothing."
He took the knife-like object for himself, leaving the wooden needle in the boy's hand.
Suddenly, a serious and intense look appeared in the soldier's eyes and across his face.
"Listen, Beloka."
"I need you to try something."
"Every human has Mano Energy inside them. It's not that hard to channel it into an object. The real challenge is that it's limited—and if you block the flow at any point in your body, it could burst."
He leaned in slightly,
"You need to focus. Imagine there's water in your heart. And with your mind, guide that water—move it from your heart, to your right hand, and then into the object."
"Understood?"
The boy looked at him with a questioning expression.
"Does it have to be water?"
The soldier narrowed his eyes slightly, a hint of confusion on his face.
"No… not necessarily."
"You can imagine it however you're comfortable."
The boy let out a small breath, a slight smile appearing on his face.
"Then I'll imagine it as energy."
The soldier placed his hand on his biceps and said,
"Good. Now… try it."
Just as the boy was about to try, the soldier suddenly remembered something.
"Wait—do you have a torch or something like it?"
The boy nodded.
The boy brought over a torch.
The soldier lit it by striking the iron blade against the wall, sending sparks until the flame caught.
Then, holding the torch firmly, he slowly opened the door—just enough to peek outside.
Without turning back, he said,
"Start."
The boy closed his eyes, focusing on channeling his energy into the object.
Meanwhile, the soldier tried to peer outside, holding the torch high.
But the light only reached as far as the walls of the house across from them—blurry and dim.
The darkness still clung to the walls, refusing to fully retreat.
Then, a faint sound reached his ears once again—the soft cry of a girl.
It came from the right side.
He slowly turned the torch in that direction, eyes scanning the darkness.
But as his gaze fell upon the same scattered corpses, dread gripped him once more.
He gathered what little courage he had left, his fists tightening.
'If only I had a spell, I could've taken that thing down easily.'
Taking a deep breath, he steadied himself and turned to the boy.
"Stay here in the house."
"And channel your energy into that wooden piece—do it as fast as you can."
He turned back in the direction the voice had come from.
With the torch gripped in his left hand at waist height, and the knife held tightly in his right, he began channeling Mano Energy into the blade.
Step by step, he moved forward.
until he reached the house across from them.
There, in the faint glow of the torch, he saw her, a girl, no older than seven, sitting and crying.
And as he slowly approached—his legs stiff like stone from fear—he finally reached her.
Trembling, he bent down and gently lifted the girl into his arms.
The moment he did,his eyes widened.
Frozen.
Stunned.
He watched in horror as the girl transformed in his arms—right before his eyes, she turned into a Dweller.
Her hair rose and floated slowly in the air, as if moved by something unseen.
Her eyes—pitch black, like the cold void of night.
And her mouth… sealed shut by her own teeth.
It looked as if her teeth had grown unnaturally long, piercing through her upper and lower lips—stretching up toward her nose and down toward her chin.
She had claws, each one the size of an average human finger.
She was no longer a small girl, before he could even blink, she had transformed into an adult, appearing to be around forty years old.
Instinct took over.
The moment she changed, the soldier's hand moved on its own.
With a swift motion, he drove the knife in his right hand straight into her chest, piercing her heart.
The Dweller froze—completely still.
And just as quickly as he had stabbed her, the soldier let go, dropping her lifeless body from his arms.
Hearing the commotion, the boy ran toward them, without a single thought of death or fear in his heart.
As he reached the spot, he saw the Dweller lying motionless on the ground, and the soldier standing beside it, silent and still.
Hearing the sound of footsteps, the soldier turned toward the boy, torch still in hand, and for a brief moment, he was startled.
"Oh… it's you."
The soldier looked at the boy—
pale-skinned, thin, with brown hair and eyes to match.
He was shorter than the soldier and seemed to be around sixteen years old.
After that, the soldier took a long, careful look at the Dweller once more.
Then he turned to the boy,
"You know… I just killed a Dweller that had a spell."
The boy looked confused.
"What's that?"
The soldier looked at him, just as confused as the boy.
Then it struck him, the boy probably didn't even know what a spell was.
He nodded slightly,
"First, let's head back to your house. We'll wait there until the master arrives… and in that time, I'll explain everything to you."
As they began walking back toward the house, the soldier asked,
"Did you do it?"
The boy, walking slightly ahead of him, shook his head.
"No… but I did feel something inside."
The soldier's eyes widened in surprise.
"Wow… it took me two days just to feel that. And you felt it alr..."
Suddenly, the soldier stopped mid-sentence,
and went completely silent.
The boy turned around, confused.
"What happ..."
But he too froze, devastated by the sight before him.
A man stood there, with no head.
He collapsed to his knees right in front of the boy, and then his entire body hit the ground with a heavy thud that echoed through the empty streets.