|Location: Wasteland, campsite|
-NUK-
Fred's taunts echoed through the camp, stirring the crowd exactly as he intended. Every pair of eyes seemed to bore into me, cutting through the glow of the blazing bonfire like deadly daggers. Their hatred wasn't subtle; it was raw and unmasked. And now, with Zero at my side—the "short-eared" they so despised—we were the perfect pair to be torn apart by their scorn.
I felt their gaze pressing down on me, heavy and suffocating. But I refused to show it. Lowering my head had become second nature, a shield against their contempt. It was easier to avoid confrontation that way, to hope the storm would pass without dragging me under. Even now, I clung to that hope.
The whispers that had swirled like a gathering storm suddenly fell silent. The eerie quiet wrapped around the camp like a thick fog. For a moment, that silence was oddly comforting—an unsettling calm before what I sensed was about to come.
Then I heard it—a faint, desperate plea.
I looked up, curiosity sharpening my senses. That's when I saw Zero—his eyes hollow and lifeless—his grip firm around Fred's neck, lifting him off the ground. The cold in Zero's stare was palpable, deadly. Fred's strangled cry cut through the night air.
"H-e-l-p!"
Fred struggled desperately, clawing at Zero's hand, gasping for breath. His eyes locked onto me, silently begging for rescue.
I moved forward slowly, each step heavy with doubt. I stopped a few feet away and hesitated.
Why should I save him? What good would it do? If Fred lived, would anything change for me? Would my life be better, or was this just another trap wrapped in false mercy?
These thoughts swirled in my mind, dark and intrusive. But the sudden scream from Fred shattered my hesitation.
I reached out to Zero, and the moment my hand touched his, a cold shock ran through me—a chill that spread down my spine and gripped my heart. His eyes never left Fred, burning with a silent warning that he would kill anyone who dared interfere.
Still, I couldn't let things escalate further. Summoning every ounce of courage, I grasped Zero's hand firmly.
"Zero! Calm down. Let him go."
The coldness pressed against me, nearly pulling me to my knees. I knew I wasn't strong enough to force him, but I hoped my touch would reach whatever part of him still held reason. I grabbed his shoulders and pulled him into a tight embrace.
"It's alright!"
For a moment, Zero's grip loosened, and he released Fred.
"What?!" His voice was sharp with confusion as he scanned the surroundings, then landed on me.
Fred collapsed, gasping desperately for air, coughing as he crawled backward, desperate to put distance between himself and Zero.
Zero's face was a mask of confusion and wariness. He quietly stared into the dark forest beyond us, lost in thought.
Hansel let out a relieved breath, the tension easing from his body. Dia, however, looked more shaken than anyone. Her wide eyes and trembling hands spoke of a fear deeper and more personal. I couldn't quite understand why she reacted this way, but the unease in her gaze unsettled me.
Despite the chaos, a question nagged at me—was bringing Zero back to the camp the right choice? My sister's plans guided me, and I told myself to trust her judgment. Still, I couldn't shake the worry that this might spiral into yet another of her grim predictions.
Even as I thought this, the weight of loneliness pressed harder on my chest. The scar this place had left on me felt fresh and raw, a reminder that I was alone in this world now.
Then, from the shadows, something shifted.
A figure appeared—his presence commanding, oppressive. Just seeing him steeled my resolve and pushed aside the turmoil inside me. I was preparing to face my greatest fear. It was a grim motivation, but a powerful one. If this confrontation meant destroying everything—including myself—I was ready.
His voice rolled over the camp like thunder, deep and resonant.
"What's going on here?"
His green hair caught the firelight, and his piercing green eyes met mine without hesitation. I straightened, meeting his gaze head-on. Confidence radiated from him—not just in his stance or the way he walked, but in the very air he commanded.
Everyone but my group bowed silently, their submission palpable. He surveyed the crowd like a king inspecting his domain, indifferent to those beneath him.
"Uncle?" Hansel's voice was hesitant as he stepped behind me.
Fred, still weak from the chokehold, crawled desperately toward the man. The sight made my stomach turn—a pitiful creature groveling before power.
"Chief, that short-ear attacked me!" Fred's voice cracked with accusation.
Hansel, cautious but firm, stepped forward. "It was you who—"
Before he could continue, the man cut him off with a raised hand.
"Stop!" His voice boomed, commanding absolute silence. "We will discuss this elsewhere."
Fred tried to protest, but the cold glare that followed silenced him instantly. It was clear this man tolerated no dissent, not even from his own followers.
To me, he was less a leader and more a tyrant—a ruler who ruled not with justice, but with fear and silence.
I forced my face into an expression of indifference, but beneath it, a fire burned bright—a fire fueled by every slight, every whispered insult, every moment of isolation.
The night seemed to close in around us, cold and heavy with tension. But I would not falter. I had a mission, and I would see it through—no matter the cost.
"Now." His voice cut through the tense silence, sharp and commanding as his green eyes locked onto mine and then Zero's.
Zero remained oddly silent, his usual restless energy subdued. That was unusual. He was the type to latch onto anything interesting, to dive headfirst into any conversation or conflict. But now, he stood still, his gaze distant, as if something inside him had shifted. I couldn't read him, and that unsettled me.
The crowd began to close in around us, their movements slow but deliberate. Though the weight of their scrutiny was suffocating, I recognized the advantage in this arrangement. Better to face them here, under watchful eyes, than be left to whispers and backstabs in the shadows.
"And you too, Hansel," the man added without looking away from me.
We followed him toward the largest tent in the camp, its imposing structure sitting proudly at the center like a throne room. Zero stayed close, almost too close, his presence heavy and silent at my side. There was something off about him—a shadow in his eyes, a stillness that spoke of loss or shock. But now wasn't the time to worry about that. The man before me demanded my full attention.
Inside the tent, chairs were arranged neatly, as though this meeting had been planned long ago. I wasn't surprised. Knowing him, it wouldn't be far-fetched to think Fred had been a pawn in some larger scheme.
He took his seat first, the tip of his cane tapping the ground rhythmically as he regarded me with cold calculation.
"Just what in the world was that?" His voice was low but filled with accusation.
His gaze swept slowly over everyone in the room, daring us to answer.
Hansel spoke up, steadying the conversation. "We didn't start it. He insulted us first. Zero was just—"
His words were cut off abruptly.
"Zero?" The man's eyes flicked to the short-eared boy, then back to me. "And Nuk, how could you let things escalate so far? It ruined the feast."
"The feast?" I echoed, incredulous. How trivial his concern was. Not a word about my sister. Was I foolish to expect anything else? His priorities had always been narrow, self-serving.
"Is that all you care about? Your precious feast? Do you even care about my sister?" I challenged him, voice sharp.
He met my gaze without flinching. "Leila, it wasn't hard to know what happened." His tone was flat, almost dismissive. "Knowing only two of you returned, and that you brought danger to our camp."
Danger. The word burned. Were we nothing but pawns to him? We risked everything, gave our all. My abilities might pale beside my sister's, but I never stopped fighting. Yet here he was, blaming me.
My blood boiled at his cold indifference. His eyes pierced through me like daggers, treating us as nothing more than nuisances. The urge to lash out burned fiercely, but memories of my sister held me back. My palm ached where I clenched it tightly.
"Danger? Don't make me laugh." I scoffed, though my voice wavered. "Your so-called informant's betrayal cost her life."
He inhaled deeply, his calm breath filling the room, drowning out all else. The weight of his presence pressed down, demanding my full attention.
"We can't predict everything that happens outside," he said solemnly, but pride still laced his words. "It was beyond my control."
His excuse stung like a slap. My sister could have lived if that informant hadn't betrayed us. He owed her more than this cold dismissal.
"Do you hear yourself, uncle? Beyond your control?" I slammed my hand on the table, voice rising. "Hansel, take Zero and Dia outside."
Both hesitated, uncertainty flashing in their eyes, but I held my gaze firm.
Hansel started to protest. "But—"
"Do as I say." My tone brooked no argument.
Hansel nodded reluctantly, pulling Zero from his chair. Zero's lifeless demeanor unsettled me, and I prayed silently that nothing worse would come of it.
"Let's go," Hansel said, leading them out.
Dia looked back once, offering me a small, reassuring smile before disappearing into the night. That brief gesture eased the knot in my chest.
The tent fell into silence, thick and heavy.
Olde, my uncle, broke it.
"You made the right call sending them out," he said, scanning the room warily. His voice was softer now, tinged with caution. "Now that it's just us, there's something you need to know."
His sudden change unsettled me. Even his careful nature couldn't hide the tension in his tone.
"Huh?" I couldn't hide my suspicion.
He glanced nervously around, his usual arrogance replaced by unease.
"What I'm about to say is very important." He took a slow breath, his eyes locking onto mine. But I didn't lower my guard for a second. One wrong move, and I'd be ready.
"Don't trust—"
His words hung unfinished, but I knew exactly where this was headed. I almost fell for his act, but no longer. I wouldn't be baited by his manipulations.
I tightened my fists, ready for whatever came next.
"What? What are you doing?" I cut him off before he could finish, yanking a knife from my pocket and driving it hard into the table between us. His eyes widened—fear flickered across his face. Was this the way he planned to plead for his life? The thought made a bitter chuckle escape me. "Hahaha, this is madness."
I could have stabbed him then and there, but before I could act, his hand gripped my shoulder firmly.
"Nuk, you need to calm down." His voice was steady, but his grip was tight, firm. Our eyes locked, and I saw the seriousness in his gaze. "You have to listen to me on this."
I shook him off roughly. "I said shut it. Inciting fights—how cliché." My mind reeled. Was he really scared of me? Or was I just wishing for repentance that would never come? Still, despite my anger, I felt the strange warmth of his touch linger. Swallowing hard, I lowered my head and forced myself to speak clearly. "Do you even care how my sister died? How Leila—your niece—met her end?"
"Now's not the time for this, Nuk," he interrupted, his tone cutting through the rising storm inside me.
His dismissal snapped me back to the cold reality of where my loyalties lay—with my family, the family that had accepted me and Leila. But his callous brush-off, treating her death like a trivial inconvenience, only deepened my disgust.
"What? Not the time?" My voice cracked, and tears burned down my cheeks. "Your niece died! My sister died!"
"We have more pressing matters to discuss," he said coldly, unmoved. "Crying won't solve anything."
How could someone be so heartless? Did this man, this so-called leader, even possess a conscience?
"I can't believe you." My voice shook with rage and pain. "My purpose is to protect those I care about. And you? You have 'more important' things to talk about? Are we your slaves? Are we just pawns to you?"
"Of course not," he said quickly, reaching out again, but I flicked his hand away sharply. "But we must—"
"Do you even know the life I lived?" The floodgates broke, emotions spilling out uncontrollably. "My father was a scavenger, for crying out loud. My mother... I only learned she was my mother after we were rescued. She was treated like breeding cattle."
Anger, sadness, guilt, longing, even fleeting happiness twisted inside me until I could no longer tell what I felt.
"Rescued? Take that back." For the first time, I saw a flicker of something unexpected in him—sadness, anger. But I pushed it aside. I had my own battles, while he sat on his throne of lies and pride. Damn this family—may the gods feast on their blood. They were all the same, even grandfather.
"Yeah, I know," he spat back with rage. "That's why grandfather offered something in exchange for you and your sister to rejoin the tribe."
"Nuk, stop!" Hansel's voice was urgent, trying to stem the tide.
But I was relentless. Pride and territory mean nothing. "She was forced to marry another tribe. For what? Pride? It won't matter in the end."
"Stop!" Hansel pleaded again.
"And do you know what came of it? She came back defiled, with Dia by her side." I jabbed a finger at his chest, the pain in my heart mirrored by the sting of my words. "And in the end, she died protecting us from the monster you cowardly ran from."
His hand suddenly slammed across the table, striking me hard.
"Nuk, I—" His voice faltered, trembling as the weight of my words sank in. He reached out, as if to touch my face.
"Forget it. I'm leaving." I stepped back, unable to continue. The moment slipped away, and with it, any chance I had to force him to understand.
I stood there, torn between fury and regret, the silence between us thick and suffocating.
•••••