Skye watched as Axel turned to face the girl—a little girl, no older than eight or nine, dressed in a faded floral apron.

The moment was still, and Skye did not miss this collective moment of silence and said immediately.

"See? Even the kids aren't afraid. Why should you be? If it were really that bad, would I let him in?" His tone was a little sharper now. The crowd fell silent, and as they realized the sun was setting, their anxiety shifted to fear. One by one, they started to disperse.

Axel looked down at the girl, his eyes softening. "You?"

Annabelle shook her head. "From outside."

Their gazes met, and without other word, they seemed to understand each other. He gently brushed her hair back, and they began to walk away. But then, a stern voice stopped them.

"Young man!" Skye called, his voice heavy now. "If you go in there, I can't let you back out. You really think this is a joke?”

Axel paused, glancing at Skye. There was no hint of defiance in his eyes, just quiet resolve. "I know."

He touched the girl's hair once more before he spoke, his voice soft but firm. "But I have to go home."

Skye hesitated, his eyes flickering to the little girl beside Axel, so thin she looked like she might be swept away by the wind. His expression softened, and he lowered his voice, barely audible over the noise of the crowd. "Once the sun goes down, stay inside. Don't go out. The infected only come out at night to hunt."

Axel's gaze sharpened slightly at the mention of "hunting." Then he nodded.

The crowd who had not left were about to gather around to listen to the exchange.

Just then, the sound of grinding metal filled the air, and a massive steel wall rose outside the barbed wire, completely sealing off the area.

"Please remain calm," a loudspeaker blared, its voice cold and robotic. "The law enforcement agency will enter Zone C. Once the infected are neutralized, the blockade will be lifted."

"Until then, stay inside. Especially after dark! Do not leave your homes!"

The announcement echoed through the crowd, but despair filled their faces.

The same nightmare had happened in the neighboring District F. In one night, hundreds of people were slaughtered by the infected, leaving the area a hellscape. Now, District C was locked down, and no one could escape, no matter how badly they wanted to.

A few rays of the setting sun filtered through the streets, but Axel couldn’t feel the warmth. He knew the sun would set in less than an hour, and they needed to get home quickly.

"Brother, I'm hungry," Annabelle murmured, pressing against his side. Her thin, malnourished frame was barely visible under her loose clothes, and her once-lustrous wheat-colored hair now hung limp over her shoulders. Despite the chaos around her, she seemed oddly unaffected by the panic.

"Just hang on, we're almost there."

As they walked, the crowd around them began to thin. The infected feared the sun, but darkness was their domain. Soon, the street was nearly deserted.

People were hurriedly securing their homes, nailing boards over windows and doors, preparing for the coming night. Children, who normally filled the streets with laughter, had already vanished into their homes.

After walking two more blocks, Axel and Annabelle finally reached a small wooden house—their house. They had worked for over two years to buy this place, a tiny sliver of safety in a world falling apart.

But as soon as they stepped inside, they froze.

The house was already occupied.

Several burly men were lounging inside, puffing on cigarettes. They looked up as Axel and Annabelle entered, and their initial surprise quickly gave way to smirks of relief.

"So, it's just two kids living here?" one of them sneered, his voice thick with malice.

Axel's eyes narrowed. His protective instincts flared as he stepped in front of Annabelle, keeping her hidden behind him.

"This is my house. You've got the wrong place."

The men exchanged amused glances, then laughed. The scarred man in the lead sneered and took a step forward.

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"Your house? Do you see your name on the door? I'm telling you, this is my place now. Got a problem with that?"

His gang chuckled in agreement, but their eyes lingered on Annabelle. Although she was only thirteen years old and still wearing tattered linen clothes, she looked pure and lovely, as charming as a fairy....

They were all thugs who had been hanging around in the slums for many years. They had no house in Area C, so they just occupied one randomly. Unexpectedly, the owner of the house was two children, which saved them trouble.

Axel's breath caught in his chest, and a coldness settled in his gaze. His physical abilities—thanks to Force—could help him take on a couple of them, but against this kind of slum scum, he couldn't take the risk.

Just as he prepared to speak again, he felt Annabelle's hand grip his tightly, and then… he sensed it.

Behind him, her once-innocent eyes were now slightly bloodshot, and a faint, dark aura began to coil around her. The air around her grew heavy with barely-contained violence.

Axel's heart raced. He quickly turned to her, positioning his body in front of hers. His voice was barely a whisper, just for her.

"Not now. Leave it to me."

Annabelle's bloodshot eyes flickered for a moment, but the dark aura receded as quickly as it had come. She returned to her quiet, innocent state, looking up at Axel as if she were nothing more than the frightened child she appeared to be.

The scarred man's voice interrupted the moment. "Hey, kid, I'm asking you a question!"

The men chuckled, enjoying their little game.

Axel turned toward them, forcing his expression into one of nervous submission. His voice trembled slightly as he spoke.

"Okay, okay… no problem. I'll get out of your way, just… just let me grab something to eat from the kitchen first, and then I'll leave."

The men laughed harder, the leader of the group waved a hand dismissively.

"You've got one minute. Don't make us wait."

Axel nodded quickly, not trusting himself to speak. He gave one last look at Annabelle before heading toward the kitchen.

Inside the small, dimly lit kitchen, Axel paused for a moment. The two small dishes on the counter had been left cold—probably something Annabelle had prepared earlier in the day, before the chaos erupted.

His gaze fell on something else—Axel's fingers brushed against a black button on the wall, and with a quiet click, he turned a hidden switch to its maximum setting.

The kitchen fell silent, the only sound the faint hum of the switch activating.

......

"Boss, you're really just gonna let them go like that?" A yellow-haired man, sitting beside the scarred leader, grumbled, clearly frustrated. "That little girl... she's so pretty. We haven't had a woman in a while."

The scarred man shot him a sharp look, his voice low and menacing. "The house is right here. Where are they gonna go? We're waiting for the law enforcement to handle the infected. Keep quiet. If we make a scene, we're all dead."

The mention of the infected made the others visibly uneasy, fear flashing across their faces. The room fell silent, the tension thick enough to cut through with a knife.

Axel held Annabelle's hand tightly and quietly closed the door behind them. He scanned the room quickly, his mind racing.

"Where are we going?" Annabelle whispered, her voice small, as if afraid to break the eerie silence outside.

Axel took a deep breath, his gaze flickering to the setting sun that had just disappeared below the horizon. Usually, the slums would be alive with the sounds of people—voices shouting, arguing, cooking, laughing—but now, there was nothing. The whole street felt like a tomb.

"We're not going anywhere," Axel replied, his voice strained. He turned to face the closed door, a feeling of unease settling in his chest. The silence outside was suffocating.

The two siblings sat together on the front steps, close, as if the proximity could protect them. Inside the house, the men sat motionless, too afraid to make any noise.

After a long silence, the yellow-haired man shifted uncomfortably. His voice broke the quiet like a sharp crack in the air. "Boss, do you feel that? I feel... sick. Like I'm gonna throw up."

The scarred man scowled at him. "Shut up and bear it. You're just nervous. People get nauseous when they're on edge."

Normally, he might have let his younger brother step outside for a bit of fresh air, but not today. Today was different. They couldn't afford to move or draw attention.

The yellow-haired man grumbled but soon fell silent. The nausea faded, and sleep claimed him. One by one, the men in the room drifted off, unable to keep their eyes open.

More than an hour later, Axel woke with a start. He looked over at Annabelle, who had fallen asleep beside him, her head resting against his shoulder. Gently, he shifted her, making sure she was leaning against the wall for support. He stood up quietly, careful not to disturb her, and reached into his boots for the dagger he kept hidden there.

His fingers tightened around the handle as he turned toward the door.

His eyes were cold now. All the panic and fear from earlier had been replaced by something harder. Axel and Annabelle had survived the slums for years, enduring countless hardships. They'd been bullied, pushed around, and forced to endure things no children should ever have to. But tonight—tonight was different.

Tonight, there were infected people outside. And he had to take his sister to live in the house!

Axel stepped into the room.

The sight that greeted him was worse than he'd expected. The men were sprawled on the floor, unconscious, some foaming at the mouth.

The scarred man was the last to stir. His eyes fluttered open, and when he saw Axel standing there, his face twisted into an expression of disbelief. Axel, the same boy who had been so panicked and helpless earlier, was now standing tall, a cold fury in his eyes.

He was holding a dagger.

The scarred man tried to speak, tried to move, but his head was splitting with pain. He looked around, his gaze landing on his brother—already foaming at the mouth and out cold.

The nausea. The vomiting. The sudden sleepiness of the others. The pieces began to click together in his mind.

Gas poisoning.

In that moment, the scarred man realized the truth. Axel had been planning this since he'd entered the house. He'd tricked them all—his earlier panic, his feigned fear, all of it had been a ruse.

The scarred man's heart pounded in his chest. He tried to speak, his voice weak with terror. "We can talk about this... we can—"

But Axel's response was swift and brutal.

"Shh."

A spray of blood splattered across the scarred man's face as Axel drove the knife deep into his chest. His eyes went wide in shock, and for a moment, his expression was frozen in disbelief.

But his pupils rapidly lost focus as the life drained from him.