The gate shut behind Kairo with a heavy metallic thud, echoing across the enclosed courtyard. For a moment, he simply stood there—breathing hard, sweat cooling on his forehead, hands still trembling from the fight.
The boy beside him was curled up, catching his breath.
But Kairo… he was looking around.
Outpost-13 wasn't what he expected.
The place wasn't big—maybe the size of a school ground, surrounded by reinforced walls made from layered metal plates, wooden beams, and whatever else people could salvage. Inside, dim blue lamps hung from cables stretched across the yard, flickering weakly but enough to create a sense of life.
People moved around—tired faces, tense shoulders, hollow eyes—but alive. Some carried makeshift weapons, others pushed carts filled with scavenged supplies. A group was repairing armor under a tarp sheet. Children sat near a fire barrel while an older woman handed out water.
For the first time in days, Kairo was surrounded by human voices.
It felt strange.
Comforting… yet overwhelming.
The rifleman who saved them approached again.
"Name?" he asked.
Kairo hesitated. "K-Kairo."
"And the kid?"
The boy raised a shaky hand. "Rin."
"Alright." The rifleman nodded once. "Follow me. The commander will want to question both of you."
Kairo exchanged a nervous glance with Rin, then followed.
They walked through a narrow corridor of tents until they reached a metal container turned into a makeshift office. The rifleman knocked.
A voice from inside answered, "Send them in."
Kairo stepped through the doorway.
Inside, the room was dimly lit by a single lantern hanging from a hook. A table stood in the center, covered with maps, radios, and scribbled notes. Behind it sat a woman in her thirties with short, dark hair and a sharp gaze that made Kairo feel like she could see right through him.
She didn't smile.
"So," she said, folding her arms. "Two more survivors."
Kairo swallowed. "We're not trouble. We just… needed a place to stay."
"We all need something," she replied calmly. "But out here, needing isn't enough. You'll have to earn your place."
Rin lowered his eyes. "We'll try."
The woman studied them for a long moment.
"My name is Mara," she finally said. "I command Outpost-13. I need to know two things: Can you follow orders? And can you survive in this world without becoming a burden to the people inside these walls?"
Kairo felt his chest tighten. He didn't know the right answer. He wasn't strong. He wasn't trained. He had barely survived the hallway this morning.
But he forced himself to meet her eyes.
"I'm not strong," he admitted. "But I don't want to hide anymore. I'll do what I can."
Mara's expression didn't change, but something in her eyes softened—just a little.
"Honest answer," she said. "Good."
She turned to the rifleman. "Eren, take them to storage. Get them basic gear. Then show them their sleeping quarters."
Eren nodded. "Come on."
As Kairo followed him out, he heard Mara mutter quietly to herself:
"They won't last unless they learn fast."
The comment stung a bit—but she was right.
Outside, Eren led them to a storage tent filled with old backpacks, ropes, metal pipes, and dented water bottles. He tossed each of them a small survival kit.
"It's not much," Eren said, "but it's enough to keep you alive for a few days."
Kairo looked inside his kit—bandages, a lighter, canned beans, a small knife.
His fingers brushed the knife's handle. It felt heavier than it looked.
"Do we… have to fight?" Rin asked quietly.
Eren sighed. "If you want to stay here, you will. Everyone works. Everyone defends. This world doesn't give you the choice to be weak."
Kairo's chest tightened again.
Weak.
That word had followed him his entire life. And now, even in this new world, it still clung to him.
As they walked toward the sleeping tents, Kairo noticed several people training in a small corner—swinging pipes, dodging strikes, learning to survive. They looked exhausted, desperate, but determined.
Eren stopped and pointed at them.
"That's where you two start tomorrow."
Kairo nodded slowly, absorbing everything—the camp, the rules, the weight of survival.
For the first time since the outbreak, he wasn't running.
He had a place.
A job.
A chance.
Maybe even… a new version of himself.
Later that night, as he lay on the thin mattress in the shared sleeping tent, Kairo stared at the metal ceiling above him. Outside, he could hear distant growls beyond the walls, the creatures prowling in the dark.
But inside the outpost… there was warmth.
People.
Voices.
Life.
Rin whispered from the bunk below, "Kairo? Do you think we'll make it?"
Kairo closed his eyes.
"I don't know," he whispered back. "But… this is the first time I think we actually might."
In the silence that followed, Kairo felt something shift inside him—small but real.
Not strength.
Not bravery.
A beginning.
Something that, one day, might grow into both.