"Wh... why, why are all of you always like this..."
The boy's voice trembled, not out of fear anymore, but from something deeper, Anger born from despair, Hatred that grew from endless pain.
"You people who have everything, you who can eat every day, you who have warm beds..." His hands clenched tightly at his sides, knuckles darkened with dirt.
"Why do you never care?! Why do you always look at us like... like trash?!"
His voice rose, almost shouting.
"We're human too! We want to live too! Nia didn't do anything wrong! She just, she just wanted to eat..."
Tears began to fall down his dirty cheeks, leaving clean wet streaks behind.
Dex stopped walking,
Not turning around, Just stopping.
Silence filled the narrow alley, only the soft sobbing of the boy and the weak breaths of his sister still lying on the ground.
"Why?" Dex muttered softly, almost like speaking to himself. "You want to know why?"
He turned his head slightly, not fully looking back, but enough for his voice to be heard more clearly.
"Because this world never cared about anyone from the beginning"
His tone was flat, empty, like reading a fact from a scientific textbook.
"You think I have everything? You think my life is easy?" Dex smiled faintly, a smile without warmth, without humor. "I lost my family, My entire village was slaughtered by people who 'have everything' like you said, Mother, father, sister, all of them died in front of my eyes"
He paused for a moment.
"No one cared, No one came to save us, No one cried for us"
The boy went silent, tears still flowing but words stuck in his throat.
"So why should I care about you?" Dex continued with that same cold tone.
"You're starving? I've starved too, You sleep on filthy ground? I've slept on ground soaked with my own family's blood"
He finally turned, staring at the boy with an empty gaze that pierced.
"The difference between me and you is, I stopped hoping someone would save me, I stopped crying and begging for mercy, And I survived, not because I was strong, but because I had no other choice"
Dex stepped closer, crouching so he was level with the boy.
Up close, the boy could see Dex's eyes more clearly — eyes with no warmth, no light. Only deep emptiness, like staring into a bottomless abyss.
"This world is cruel..." Dex said softly, each word spoken with cold precision. "No one will come save you, No heroes from fairy tales, No miracles like in fiction books"
Dex placed a silver coin in front of the boy.
"But remember one thing" Dex's voice came again from the darkness, further away. "If you want to survive in this world, stop hoping someone will save you, Survive in your own way, even if it means stepping on others"
Dex turned again Before a coin hit his head, from behind came the boy's voice.
"I don't need your money, I don't need your advice" The boy shouted loudly though tears still streamed down his face.
"You weak loser"
Those words came out like poisoned spit, filled with genuine hatred, not toward Dex personally, but toward what Dex represented, despair that had given up, emptiness that had accepted the world as it was.
"I won't become like you! I won't become someone who looks at the world with empty eyes like you!" His breath shook, tears poured heavily, but his hand pointed at Dex's back with a trembling finger.
"If there is no hero, I will be that hero" His voice rose, nearly hysterical.
"if there is no light, I will be that Light" He took a deep breath, his whole body shaking.
"if there is no miracle, I WILL CREATE ALL THOSE MIRACLES"
His scream echoed throughout the alley, bouncing from wall to wall, until the entire slum seemed to hear it.
Silence enveloped the night after that scream.
Only the boy's fading sobs, his ragged breaths, and a heartbeat pounding too hard remained.
Dex stood where he was, back still facing the boy.
Not moving.
Not speaking.
Only silent.
The night wind blew gently, carrying the smell of garbage and wet soil.
The boy still stood there, body trembling, tears flowing, but his eyes — his eyes burned with a fire Dex knew too well.
"You want to be a hero" Dex said softly, not as a question, but as a statement. "You want to be light. You want to create miracles"
He paused.
"Alright"
The word came out flat, emotionless, yet somehow heavier than anything he had said that night.
"Then do it"
Dex crouched again, this time picking up the silver coin that had been thrown at his head. He stared at the coin for a moment, the metal surface reflecting the moonlight weakly, turned around, and looked back into the boy's eyes.
"But remember this carefully"
His voice changed, still flat, but something sharper lay within.
Something that sounded like a warning born from bitter experience.
"Heroes die faster than ordinary people"
He placed the coin into the boy's palm, forcing him to take it this time, giving no choice.
"Light always attracts a greater darkness"
Dex's fingers closed the boy's hand, forcing the coin to stay inside.
"And miracles... miracles always come with disasters that cost more than you can imagine"
Dex released his hand and slowly stood up.
"So if you really want to be a hero, if you really want to be the light, make sure you're ready to lose more than you've ever imagined"
He looked at the boy one last time, his gaze empty but somehow heavier than before.
"Because this world doesn't care about your good intentions, This world doesn't care about your determination. This world only cares about one thing"
Dex turned, walking again into the darkness.
"Whether you are strong enough to survive when everything collapses, And whether you are strong enough when a blade is at your throat, or at the throat of someone closest to you"
"But if you still stand after that..."
Dex's figure began to disappear around the corner, swallowed by shadows.
"...maybe you really can become the hero you talked about"
"I'll be waiting to see it kid" Dex disappeared as if swallowed by the darkness.
Silence returned to the alley.
The boy stood where he was, his trembling hand holding the silver coin that suddenly felt so heavy — not because of the metal, but because of the weight of the words attached to it.
"I won't become like you" he whispered softly, but this time not with anger.
But with determination.
Determination colder, Sharper.
"I will become stronger than you"
He closed his hand tightly around the coin.
---
Dex walked through the night streets, hands in his pockets, eyes straight ahead.
For a moment, just a moment, something stirred in his chest.
Not pity, Not sympathy.
But something more complicated.
Desire.
The desire to see if that boy could truly prove him wrong.
The desire to see whether that fire would keep burning, or die out like his own.
It stayed there, small and faint, like a seed planted in soil too hard to grow.
And for some reason, Dex felt slightly bothered by it.
Because for the first time in seven months, something inside him almost felt like.
Hope.
Hope that the boy was right and he was wrong.
---
The boy finally moved.
He lifted his sister carefully, her body too light, too weak, and carried her to a slightly cleaner corner of the alley.
He placed her on an old sack used as a mattress, covering her with the worn cloth he had.
Then he sat beside her, staring at the silver coin in his hand.
Under the dim moonlight, the coin gleamed with a cold light.
The boy stared at it for a long time.
Then, slowly, he gripped it tightly, so tight that the edge of the coin pierced his palm, drawing a bit of blood.
"I will be a hero"
"I will be the light"
"I will create miracles"
His vow echoed in the night's silence, not loud, but so clear, so absolute.
As if the world itself heard that vow,
And smiled.
Or perhaps laughed.
Because this world had seen too many such vows.
And this world knew exactly how they usually end.