"Name's Jake Clinton," he said.
"And if I didn't show up when I did—"
"—you'd be dead."
Kael's eyes widened.
The words didn't sound threatening. They weren't dramatic. They were simply… factual. That frightened Kael more than anything else.
Mikhail's arms were crossed tightly over his chest, eyes were red and face drawn with exhaustion and fear. He was stood at the back of Jake. His jaw was tightened, but he said nothing.
Jake slid the magazine back into his pistol with a soft click and then settled it on the table. "Now," he continued calmly, "I need to ask you something very serious and I need a really honest answer."
Then he turned his eyes back to at Kael. "You saw it, didn't you?"
Kael swallowed. His throat felt dry and raw. The memory of the sound of the hunger, chewing at reality, made his stomach twist.
"…Yes," Kael said quietly.
Jake nodded, as if he was confirming a calculation. "Good. That means you're not blind."
Mikhail frowned. "Saw what?"
Jake ignores Mikhail and says,"Something people like you aren't built to see those devouring monsters."
Kael clenched his fists. "You said it was a… Devouring monster."
"That's right," Jake replied. "devouring monsters and this one was the one we call it newborn. These newborn ones are , actually. Ugly, loud, sloppy and with small arms. The dangerous ones don't announce themselves, they devour humans instantly."
Kael's heart sank.
Jake leaned forward slightly. "Normal people can't see them. Can't hear them. Can't fight them. If they do… they die."
He tilted his head. "But you didn't."
Silence fell again.
Jake straightened. "Which brings us to the part where I give you a choice."
Kael looked up. "A choice?"
"Yes." Jake raised two fingers. "Option one: you come with me. You will learn why you can see things others can't. You will learn how to survive. How to fight. How to stop being prey. And how to use the power of Rin."
Then he lowered one finger.
"Option two: you stay here. Help your so-called father with his farm. Live weak. Pretend tonight never happened."
The word hit like a slap.
"So-called…?" Kael whispered.
His breath shook.
"Say that again," Kael said with voice low.
Jake raised an eyebrow. "Why?"
Kael stood, despite the pain being screaming through his body. "Because you're wrong."
Jake turned fully toward him now.
"He is my real father," Kael said. "You don't have to talk to him like that."
The room felt smaller.
Jake glanced back at Mikhail.
For the first time since his arrival, Jake studied Mikhail—not as a background, not even as an obstacle, but as a person.
Mikhail felt it immediately. His spine became stiffened and his hands were slightly trembling.
Jake exhaled his breath.
"…Interesting," he muttered.
Then, without warning, he spoke again."You want the truth, kid?" Jake said. "Fine."
He turned to Mikhail. "Tell him how you found him."
Mikhail froze.
Kael's heart skipped. "What…?"
Jake's voice was calm but sharp. "Tell him."
Mikhail's lips parted and then closed. His eyes dropped onto the floor.
"I…" His voice cracked. "I was alone."
Jake didn't interrupt.
"My life back then," Mikhail continued slowly, "was empty. Just land and silence. I'd lost everyone. There was nothing left but routine."
He swallowed. "Then one morning… there was a baby at my doorstep."
Kael's breath caught.
"You were freezing," Mikhail said. "Barely breathing. There was a woman too… but she was already gone. It was your mother, maybe."
Kael's fists tightened. His chest burned.
Jake watched him closely.
"I took you to the hospital," Mikhail said. "They asked questions that I couldn't answer. I didn't care. I brought you home anyway."
His voice shook now. "That wasteland I lived in… it turned into a forest. Because of you, Kael."
Kael's vision blurred.
Jake spoke again. "You furious yet?"
Kael's jaw clenched.
He was furious, but arthe lies and secrets.
At the world that kept stealing things from him before he could even understand them.
But he didn't scream.
He didn't lash out.
He breathed.
Slow. Controlled.
"No," Kael said. "I'm not furious."
Jake's eyes narrowed slightly.
" I'm grateful," Kael continued. "And I'm going with you."
Mikhail's head snapped up. "Kael—!"
Kael turned to him. "I have to."
Jake nodded once. "Good."
He stood. "Then stand up. We're leaving."
Kael hesitated. "Wait."
Jake paused, already halfway to the door. "What now?"
Kael looked down at himself, bloodstained clothes and bare feet. "I don't have anything."
Jake shrugged. "You don't need anything."
Kael stepped outside.
The cold night air hit his face.
Behind him, Mikhail's voice broke. "Kael!"
Kael stopped.
Mikhail walked toward him, eyes wet and shoulders heavy. "I'm really sorry," he said. "I should've told you the truth earlier."
He took a shaky breath. "But I was afraid. Afraid you'd leave. Afraid you'd hate me."
Kael shook his head. "You gave me a life."
Mikhail's voice trembled. "You are my life."
Kael hugged him.
Brief. Tight. Desperate.
"I'll come back father," Kael whispered. "After I get strong."
Mikhail nodded. He was unable to speak.
Kael turned once more at the birch tree behind the house.
He knelt at the grave.
"Looks like you made my wish come true," he whispered. "Thank you, Mother."
The tears were falling from his eyes.
Then a car horn blared.
He whipped his tears with his long, bloodstained selves and head back.
Jake leaned out from the window. "Kid. Now or never."
Kael stood.
Tears again slid silently down his face as he walked to the car.
But he didn't look back.
The engine roared. The headlights cut through the night.
And as the car disappeared from the road, Mikhail Petrov stood alone once more—watching the forest of his life vanish into the night.