Zach let out a shaky breath, leaning against the rough bark of a nearby tree.

He hadn’t killed the bandits; they were only unconscious. And that fact—it was crazy. He had been in a knife fight. A life-and-death fight.

Back on Earth, sure, he’d been in his fair share of scrapes, but there had always been a line. Fists might fly, someone might get bruised or bloodied, but it had never been about survival. Here? He could have died.

No matter how much he thought about it, the idea of dying here would always feel unreal, like a fresh shock every time it crossed his mind. Unbelievable.

Then his thoughts paused, catching on a phrase that hadn’t fully registered before. Back on Earth.

The idea wasn’t new to him—he had accepted that he was no longer in his world. But thinking about it so directly, framing it like that, felt strange, almost surreal.

He shoved the thought aside. There wasn’t time to get lost in existential musings. The danger was still very real, and the boy crying over his dead parents wasn’t going to save himself.

Zach pushed himself upright, the aches in his body flaring as he moved. He ignored them and walked toward the boy. The boy stiffened when he noticed Zach approaching, his sobs quieting into shallow, panicked breaths.

“Stay back!” the boy shouted, scrambling to his feet. His small hands snatched up a nearby stone, and before Zach could react, the boy hurled it at him.

The stone struck Zach in the shoulder with a dull thud. He flinched but didn’t stop. “Hey—”

“Leave them alone!” the boy screamed, reaching for another rock. His eyes were wide, wild with fear.

“I’m not with the bandits,” Zach said quickly, raising his hands in what he hoped was a calming gesture. “I took them down. They can’t hurt you anymore.”

The boy froze mid-throw, his small hand gripping the rock tightly. “You… you took them down?”

“Yeah,” Zach said, nodding. “They’re not getting up anytime soon.”

The boy’s expression flickered between disbelief and hope, his grip on the rock loosening. “So… so you’re not here to hurt them?”

Zach blinked, confused. “Them?” he asked. And then it hit him—the boy hadn’t processed what had happened yet. He wasn’t ready to accept that his parents were gone.

“No,” Zach said gently, his voice softening. “I’m not here to hurt anyone. I want to help.”

The boy hesitated, the rock slipping from his fingers and thudding to the ground. He looked back at his parents’ lifeless forms, his lip trembling. “They’re bleeding a lot,” he said, his voice breaking. “And… and they won’t wake up. Please, help me wake them up!”

Zach’s stomach twisted, the boy’s words hitting harder than he expected.

He crouched slightly, lowering his voice. “Do you know where you live?” he asked. “Maybe I can help get your people to—”

The boy shook his head, his eyes wide in frustration. “No!” he shouted. “They won't make it if we wait! My parents need help now. You can't just leave them!”

Zach paused. He took a deep breath, trying to keep his voice steady. "I know. I know you want to help them, but I don't have the medical experience to save them. If we wait, it could make things worse. The best chance they have is for us to get someone who knows what they're doing."

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The boy's lip trembled, and his face flushed with anger. “By the time we get help, what do you think would happen to my parents!”

Zach leaned closer, keeping his gaze level with the boy's. "Listen to me. I care, I really do. But I need you to understand, I'm not a healer. If we don't move now and get someone who can actually help, we both might not make it. I promise I'll do everything I can once we find help, okay?"

The boy stared at him, his expression torn between mistrust and hope. Finally, he nodded slightly. “And help our driver too,” he said.

“Your driver?” Zach asked, frowning. “Where’s the driver?”

“I don’t know,” the boy said, his small shoulders slumping. “The carriage tipped over when the tires broke. The bandits…” He trailed off, his voice barely a whisper.

Zach’s instincts told him to check, to see if the driver might still be alive. But the clearing was dangerous, and staying here longer than necessary was asking for trouble.

“What’s your name?” Zach asked, trying to shift the boy’s focus.

The boy sniffled and mumbled something incomprehensible. Before Zach could respond, a notification flashed in his vision:

[Updating localization of the Maceruio language…]

Zach blinked. The system just updated my language comprehension? That’s a hell of a feature.

He didn’t dwell on it, though. Time was precious. “Can you repeat that?”

“Markinson,” the boy said, his voice clearer now. “Family name is Tombreakers.”

Tombreakers? It sounded odd, almost ominous, but he decided not to comment. The boy didn’t need questions about his family name right now.

“All right, Markinson,” Zach said, standing upright again. “The driver can wait. We need to get to safety. Where’s the closest village?”

Markinson’s face crumpled slightly, tears still brimming in his eyes. He pointed forward. “Far,” he said. “Far, far away.”

Zach sighed. This wasn’t going to be easy.

He crouched, wrapping his arms around the boy and lifting him carefully. Markinson didn’t resist, but he kept glancing back at his parents’ bodies, his gaze filled with a quiet, aching sadness.

Zach adjusted his grip and started walking.

The forest around them was eerily quiet, the occasional rustle of leaves the only sound.

As they moved, Zach’s mind churned with questions. Why had the bandits attacked? Stealing made sense, but killing a kid? That didn’t add up. And if the boy was traveling in a carriage, the forest had a road track.

He never saw that before so it was a bit weird to him.

“Markinson,” Zach said after a while, breaking the silence. “What kind of beasts live out here?”

The boy didn’t answer immediately, his head turning to glance back again.

Zach’s chest tightened. He didn’t want to rush the kid, but they didn’t have time for this.

“It’s okay to be sad,” Zach said quietly, “but we need to focus. Can you help me?”

Markinson sniffled, nodding slightly. “I'm not sure…” he started, his voice faltering. "But at night…” He hesitated.

“What happens at night?” Zach asked.

“GroundSleepers wake up,” Markinson said, his voice barely above a whisper.

Zach’s stomach sank. “What are GroundSleepers?”

“They’re… they’re creatures,” Markinson said. “They come from the dirt. Like… like the people who died there.”

A nervous laugh escaped Zach’s lips before he could stop it. Undead? Seriously?

The boy didn’t laugh.

"How long will it take to reach a village?" Zach asked.

"Maybe 4 hours? By then--"

"It will be night."

Zach’s pulse quickened, and without another word, he started running. His body protested with every step, his arm burning where the knife wound throbbed.

Great, he thought grimly. Exhausted, injured, and now I have to worry about zombies. Welcome to the new normal.

He ran for what felt like an eternity, the forest blurring around them as Zach pushed himself forward. The boy clung tightly to him, his small body bouncing slightly with each stride.

“Hey… what’s your name?” Markinson asked weakly.

“Zach,” he replied.

“Zach,” Markinson repeated, as if trying to remember it. “I’m… thirsty.”

Zach felt a twinge of annoyance at having to divert their focus; every minute spent looking for water was a minute closer to being caught in the forest after dark, and that was the last thing he wanted.

But he was also incredibly thirsty too.

"Why are we slowing down?" Markinson asked.

"Shh, I'm trying to hear," Zach whispered, his eyes scanning the surroundings as he trudged forward. His breaths came in ragged gasps.

Markinson looked around nervously. "Is something coming?"

"No, I... just need to find us some water," Zach replied, trying to sound more confident than he felt.

He kept listening, each rustle of leaves and distant chirp of insects making his heart pound harder. He strained his ears, hoping to catch something—anything—that sounded like water.

Zach walked around for a while, but that while felt for too long.

"We will get water at a village" The idea he could create water using all the organic material escaped his mind.

Zach went back to running in the original route.

"Zach."

“Yeah?”

“You know, you have a weird name?"

"I could say the same for you."

Markinson smiled. "Thank you for helping us."

"Sure. We will get help for your parents before it's dark." Zach lied confidently.