The low hum of the ship filled Youri's ears.
He lay unconscious atop a broken crate, his body limp and unmoving. Slowly, his eyes began to open. His vision was blurred, shapes swimming before settling into focus.
"Hey… Six, what happened?" Youri said weakly.
There was no answer.
Youri turned around, expecting to see someone standing behind him. No one was there. He frowned and began calling Six's name again and again. His voice echoed back at him, hollow and empty. Panic surged through his chest. He rushed off the crate and searched the hangar, looking everywhere.
As he moved, faint memories of the last moments before he lost consciousness began to return—the soldiers rushing into the hangar, the shouting, the chaos, and finally Six's embrace.
Youri dropped to the ground.
His entire body trembled as tears filled his deep green eyes. He screamed Six's name, shouting until his throat burned. His cries were so loud they carried beyond the ship, echoing out into the void. The crew rushed in after hearing the shouts, but Youri barely noticed them.
Through his tears, he noticed the man he had bribed to sneak aboard. Youri staggered toward him, shouting, demanding to know where Six was. The man said nothing. He only shook his head.
In that moment, Youri truly understood.
Once again, he had been saved by the sacrifice of someone else.
At the age of twelve, Youri had already lost most of the people he had known in his life. As he stood there sobbing on the cold metallic floor of the ship, his tears fell endlessly as thoughts of the dead filled his mind. Lira. Flavio. Six. They had all died because of him—and for him.
The guilt was overwhelming. The nonstop crying sent his body into shock, and Youri collapsed, losing consciousness once more, his cries still echoing into the dark void.
Youri woke up a day later.
The ship had already landed in Montra. As he stirred, one of the crew members approached him.
"This is Montra," the man said. "I hope you find peace here."
Youri said nothing. He stepped off the ship with nothing but the clothes on his back.
The streets of Dahrin were crowded with people—some laughing, some enjoying the calm of the day. Youri walked those same roads, but his face was pale, his perception dark and heavy. Life had beaten him down to nothing.
He walked aimlessly, without purpose.
Suddenly, he bumped into someone. Looking up from his height, he noticed a military uniform. As he raised his head to apologize, his breath caught.
Barnaby stood there, a cigarette hanging from his mouth, smiling.
"Long road, huh?" Barnaby said.
Youri froze, shocked, unable to move.
Barnaby stepped closer, leaning in slightly. "Why, Youri? You could've stayed in Volar. Worked. Made money. Been someone. But instead, you decided to do all this." His smile faded. "And you did it behind my back. Despite my warning."
The crowd around them seemed to fade as the two stood face to face.
Barnaby spoke again. "Six is dead. You deserve to know that at least. I was told he led the officers all the way to the park. He was shot there and died on the spot." He paused. "But he went with a smile. Or so I'm told. He was one hell of a brother, wasn't he?"
The wind swept through the alley, moving their hair. Youri's expression darkened further as tears streamed down his face.
"Why?" Youri asked. "Why did you have to take us for that first job?!"
Barnaby stood silently for a moment before pulling another cigarette from his pack and lighting it. He exhaled slowly, the smoke immediately carried away by the wind.
"I don't know," Barnaby said. "You reminded me of my old self. I'm an orphan too. I was raised in the slums of Terria. I stole. I hurt people. I sold drugs. All of it just to gain power."
He looked away briefly. "Throughout all of it, I wanted one thing the most—a helping hand."
"We never asked you for help!" Youri shouted.
Barnaby exhaled again. "I know. But help comes in many ways. Sometimes unwanted. Sometimes too late."
He turned back to Youri. "So what do you suppose I do with you now?"
Youri looked down, lowering his head. His voice was empty. "Do whatever you want. I no longer wish to walk this wretched, twisted world."
"So you want everything to end?" Barnaby asked.
He took another breath. "You lost one brother, and now you don't want to walk the path he died to give you?"
"What do you think you know about me?!" Youri shouted. A grim smile spread across his face. "Everyone close to me dies. They leave me behind. How do you think that makes me feel?!"
Barnaby flicked his cigarette away. "I know you've been through a lot, kid. But trust me—you haven't seen all the darkness yet."
Youri laughed bitterly. "Have you ever heard of the Potential Institute?"
Barnaby frowned. "That place is a myth."
"I spent two years there," Youri said. "Six probably grew up there too. He only had a few months in the real world." Tears streamed down his face. "Flavio, Six, and I endured hell every single day. And in the end, they died protecting me. What kind of justice is that?"
The wind swept through the alley once more.
"That's why I'm asking this of you," Youri said, lifting his head, his eyes red and burning with tears. "Please—end it."
Barnaby looked at him for a long moment. Slowly, he placed his hand on his weapon and raised it, pointing it toward Youri's head.
"Hey, kid," Barnaby said quietly. "What do you think their dying wish was?"
The wind roared between them.
"Why ask me that?" Youri whispered.
"I just want to know if you've forgotten what was sacrificed to bring you here," Barnaby replied.
Youri stared at the weapon before him as memories flooded his mind—Lira's bright smile, Six's rough voice and steady presence, Flavio's excited eyes as he spoke of his dreams.
A broken smile formed on Youri's face as tears continued to fall. "It's not fair," he cried. "They left me all alone. What's the point of moving on if it's not with them?"
Barnaby lowered his weapon. "You may wish for everything to end," he said, "but I can't grant you that. I may be a thief and a criminal, but I'm not ungrateful."
He turned slightly. "Sending you away after all that sacrifice would be selfish."
He looked back at Youri. "But I can send you somewhere worse. Somewhere like hell. Maybe there, you'll find someone—or something—that gives you answers."
Youri lifted his head higher, tears still flowing, his smile unbroken.
"I survived hell once," he said. "Maybe this one will be hotter."