Darkness.
Gloom.
The air was heavy with humidity, surrounding the dark underground space where only a few electric lamps lit the area just enough for minimal visibility.
Inside a large underground room filled with two-story bunk beds, dozens of exhausted children sat, looking like half-dead people: their clothes were torn, their faces dirty and worn out, and their hands — covered in blood they hadn't had time to wash off.
In one corner of the room sat a ten-year-old boy with black hair and violet eyes. His face showed lifelessness and exhaustion, and his gaze — empty, as if he were a corpse rather than a living person.
This was Lin.
He sat like a stone statue, showing no signs of life. Just like all the other children here, after brutal battles.
"Bastard!!! Why did you kill Lob!!!" a loud teenage scream rang out from another part of the room.
