Kaai finished tying the last strip of bandage across his ribs, the cloth running from his waist to his shoulder like a crude sash.
But it wasn't enough he needed more bandages. He forced himself up from the chair,Every movement sent a dull throb through his side. And headed back to the storage room.
The last twenty-four hours had wrung him dry — mentally, physically, and in ways he didn't even have names for. He still felt like he was watching everything from behind a fog, too numb to panic, too tired to think properly.
Kaai dug through his pack for more bandages, wincing every time his ribs protested. His fingers brushed something soft at the bottom, and when he pulled it free, he stared at it for a long second.
The chocolate cake.
The one he'd swiped from the mall earlier. It felt absurdly out of place here, in a world of impossible monsters and living trees — but maybe that was why he kept it. Something familiar. Something human. He sighed, tucked new bandages under his arm, and walked back out.
The girl was adjusting one of the glowing fungal lamps when she saw it. Her expression didn't change… but her hair did. A sharp flicker of sickly green, then orange — unmistakable disgust. Her nose wrinkled slightly as she leaned away from the cake like it was a rotting corpse.
"…Seriously?" Kaai muttered. "It's chocolate."
She pointed two fingers the table — a firm, disapproving gesture. She looked at the desert with fear that the cake might corrupt her abode. Kaai stared at her, deeply offended on behalf of humanity, then took a bite out of sheer spite. Her hair flashed black — denial, absolute refusal — and he rolled his eyes. The stared at him for few long seconds before going back to tending to her treehouse.
Kaai sat hunched at the edge of his seat, looping the bandage clumsily around his ribs. Every pull stung, every breath reminded him that his entire left side felt like it had been folded in half by a truck. He paused, wiped sweat from his brow, then took another bite of the chocolate cake. It tasted like sugar and regret.
He alternated — wrap, bite, hiss in pain, chew — like some pathetic survival ritual.
His mind wouldn't stop.
'I'm almost out of ammo.'
'Two magazines. Twenty-four rounds. That's nothing.'
'If another monster shows up… what then? Throw the rifle at it?'
He cinched the bandage tighter and grimaced.
Haven't seen a single person since I woke up. Not one human. Just her.
He glanced at the girl across the room as she tended to her bizarre furniture. Is she even human?
He took another bite of the cake out of spite. She glanced over, saw the chocolate smear on his fingers, and her hair flashed that irritated orange-green again. Kaai ignored it.
No ammo. No idea where I am. No idea what she is. And I'm sitting here eating a cake.
He stared down at the half-eaten slice.
"…this is fucked."
And he took another bite anyway.
As he finished tending to himself he saw a shadow touch his knee
The girl was standing right next to him
'I didn't even hear her'
The girl stood beside him, silent as breath, holding something in her hands.
Two small orbs.
Soft. Bouncy-looking.
Glowing with a faint cyan light that pulsed like a heartbeat.
She held one out to him.
Kaai stared. His brain was too fried for new information.
"…uh," he murmured intelligently.
The chair across from him slid — actually slid — across the wooden floor, stopping neatly behind her as if it had been trained. She sat down with fluid ease, the orb resting gently in her palm.
Kaai blinked.
He had seen giants ripping apart buildings, an alien hovercraft, a barrier that slapped away monsters, a living chair, and a forest that breathed.
But somehow the chair politely moving itself still bothered him.
He looked back at the orb.
She lifted hers, pressed her lips to the surface… and drank.
The orb shrank slightly with each sip, like it was dissolving into her.
Kaai hesitated.
"…okay. Sure. Why not. Floating death balls outside, mystery juice inside. Normal day."
He raised the orb to his lips.
The first drop hit his tongue — and his whole body reacted.
It wasn't water.
It wasn't juice.
It wasn't anything human.
It was warm.
Dense, almost syrup-thick.
Sweet — but not sugary sweet. More like concentrated fruit and heat and something electric.
And then the warmth hit his chest.
A slow surge.
Then a rush.
Then a wave that spread through his arms, his legs, his spine — like someone had poured molten sunlight into his veins.
Kaai's breath stuttered.
His skin felt hot, almost feverish — but in a good way. Like his body was flushing out exhaustion, pushing something stale and heavy out through his pores.
He exhaled sharply, steam escaping his lips in a thin puff.
"…what the hell," he whispered.
He didn't know if he should be alarmed, grateful, or impressed.
The girl sipped her own drink calmly, watching him from the corner of her eye. Not curious in a childish way, but measuring him. She also had a proud look on her face
Her hair flickered gently between blue and white.
Interest.
Calm.
A hint of relief.
Kaai wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and leaned back. The chair reshaped to support him again, as if sensing his weight shift.
He looked at her, still holding the half-finished orb.
"…What is this?" he muttered softly.
She didn't answer in words — she never did — but she lifted her own orb, tapped it twice with her finger, then tapped her chest.
Kaai frowned.
"…Energy? Food? Drink?"
Kaai let out a slow breath.
"We….," he murmured. "We need a to find a way to communicate"
He leaned back, head tilting as he stared up at the curved wooden ceiling woven with glowing moss.
For the first time since stepping into the Fractured Lands…
…he felt the edge of his terror soften.
Not disappear.
Just… ease.
He lowered his gaze to her again.
She wasn't looking at him anymore. She had settled into her seat, sipping quietly, legs drawn up like a child folding into comfort. The cyan glow reflected on her armor and on the faint scars etched into her skin.
Kaai studied her in silence.
She was strong.
She was fast.
She had powers he didn't understand.
She lived in a place built from roots and metal and impossible architecture.
And yet—
She sat beside him like an ordinary girl sharing a drink after a long day.
For the first time, Kaai felt something unexpected stir beneath the exhaustion and fear.
Not trust.
But maybe…
maybe the beginning of familiarity.
When he finished drinking the orb, she has already finished hers
She shifted closer.
Her hair pulsed once — soft white, calm.
Kaai froze as she lifted her hands.
Not to attack.
To speak.
Slowly, with deliberate grace
First, her left hand lay flat against her collarbone, palm warm, fingers together.
Then lifted her hand, curled her fingers and tapped her sternum. With moving her hand she flicked upwards. Continuing the motion, she took her right hand extending it towards Kaai, her pal facing him And curled her finger. The opened them.
Her hair shimmered golden white.
Kaai stared.
He didn't know what any of that meant.
Not the motion, not the way her fingers curled, not the way her light shifted.
But she held the final pose a moment longer…
as if waiting for something he was supposed to understand.
He didn't.
And the silence between them deepened.
Her hand was still open toward him.
Kaai hesitated, then—because doing nothing felt worse—he lifted his own hand and mimicked the last part of her motion.
Palm up.
Open.
Unsure.
Her eyes blinked once — a flicker of gold.
Then she repeated the gesture again, slower this time.
As if emphasis alone could build a bridge between meaning and confusion.
Kaai tried again.
Wrong.
Immediately wrong.
She tilted her head — not irritated, not disappointed — just… puzzled.
Curious.
Like she was examining a rock that decided to breathe.
He tried a third time, tracing the path of her hand from her collarbone downward.
Nope.
Still wrong.
Her hair flickered a faint, uncertain hue.
He had no idea what that meant, but it definitely wasn't success.
"…Okay, this clearly means something," Kaai muttered, "but I have no idea what."
Kaai exhaled sharply. "I'm trying, alright? I don't speak—"
He gestured vaguely at her glowing hair, her fluid movement, the strange symbols her motions hinted at.
"—all of… that."
She didn't react.
Instead, she made the gesture one last time — hand to collarbone, curling across her chest, opening toward him — but this time she added a small tap of her forefinger against her heart.
A soft, warm light pulsed through her hair.
Kaai blinked. "Is that… a name? A greeting? A warning? I don't—"
She tapped her heart again.
Slower.
His frustration crept in. "I don't get it."
She stared at him.
He stared back.
Silence stretched between them — not hostile, but heavy with two people desperately trying to understand a language that wasn't made for either of them.
Finally Kaai rubbed his face with both hands.
"Look… I'm not ignoring you. I'm just clueless. Honestly clueless."
When he looked up again, she had raised her hand, repeating the entire sequence one more time.
He groaned softly. "We are going to be here all night, aren't we?"
Her hair flickered with a faint shade — maybe amusement? Maybe impatience? Maybe absolutely nothing he was imagining.
He tried the motion again anyway.
Badly.
She blinked.
He sighed.
Two survivors in a treehouse at the edge of the world, trying to communicate with gestures both older and stranger than language itself… and failing miserably.
But neither walked away.