Chaos erupted around them, and everything became a struggle for survival. There was no safe place left—not among the terrified crowds nor in the narrow alleys where shattered souls fled. The explosion had cracked the earth, set buildings ablaze, and sown terror in every corner of the city.
Kuran and Timo were caught in the storm, running without pause, their footsteps racing against the echoes of distant blasts. Rubble scattered around them, but the new soldiers—those with no human expression on their faces—were closing in.
**"No! Don't look back!"** Timo shouted, yanking Kuran's arm. His face was pale, but his eyes burned with a vitality that refused to be extinguished. Yet there was something strange in his gaze, something Kuran had never seen before.
Kuran panted behind him, forcing his legs to move faster, but the ground beneath him felt like it was swallowing his steps. In that moment, it seemed the entire city was conspiring against them, hunting them with all its might. The soldiers' footsteps thundered closer, and Kuran's heart pounded as if trying to escape his chest.
Then, as if time had frozen, the soldiers appeared. Clad in dark armor, their nerves like steel, they moved like machines—less human, more like extensions of the shadows themselves.
**"Run! Faster!"** Timo screamed, dragging Kuran into a narrow passage between buildings.
But Kuran was losing focus. The world blurred around him; the soldiers' shouts merged with the drumming of his own pulse. He ran without thought, unable to grasp the reality unfolding. It felt as if the world had collapsed, and he was the only one still alive inside the ruin.
Timo was slightly ahead, while Kuran dragged his feet. Suddenly, Timo stopped mid-alley and said breathlessly:
**"Listen... we're trapped. You have to go alone."**
At first, Kuran didn't understand. **"What?"** he gasped, turning to Timo with wide, disbelieving eyes.
**"I won't leave you here!"** His voice trembled as he clung to anything solid. But Timo wasn't asking for agreement.
**"No. You *have* to go. Find another way!"** Timo shoved him toward a nearby alley. **"Go now. *Run*."**
Something boiled in Kuran's chest. He tried to speak, but no words came.
Then Timo stepped back, facing the approaching soldiers. **"If I stay... I can distract them."** He smiled, though sorrow glinted in his eyes.
**"Timo—no! Don't go!"** Kuran clutched at him, but Timo pulled away abruptly, sprinting toward the soldiers. He screamed at the top of his lungs, drawing their attention. Kuran felt something inside him shatter.
But he couldn't move. His heart screamed, but his body was rooted in place.
He watched Timo charge forward, running *away* from him, while the soldiers advanced with slow, merciless steps.
Now he was alone.
Kuran, trembling from within, forced himself to run. The farther he went, the more images flooded his mind: Timo, his friend. *Why did he leave me?* He tried to stop thinking, but Timo's face wouldn't leave him.
As he ran through bones and wreckage, the city seemed to cast him into the depths of his own abyss. The air in his lungs grew thin, everything turning hazy. It was all so heavy, but he kept running—for Timo.
He ran, yet felt he'd lost something far greater than himself.
Kuran staggered forward, barely seeing his path through the dark alleys, his uneven footsteps mixing with distant crashes. The city groaned under fresh collapses. His breath was ragged, his chest on fire, but he couldn't stop.
Shadows of fallen buildings and debris blocked his way. The air thickened with smoke and dust until each breath felt like swallowing flames.
*Run. Run. Run.*
The world around him blurred. The sounds of fleeing people faded, leaving only one voice echoing in his skull: *"...Timo."*
Then—he slammed into a wall of blackened stone. He staggered back, staring at the dead end before him.
**"...Impossible."**
His eyes darted frantically, searching for an exit—any way out. But there was nothing. Only high, impassable walls, standing like a suffocating barricade.
He turned back in terror.
The soldiers' footsteps drew nearer—cold, rhythmic, like the ticking of a death clock. Their shadows loomed at the alley's entrance, their massive forms and dark armor like a walking nightmare.
Kuran was helpless. He pressed against the wall, trembling, his mind screaming: *"I'm done for."*
But then—
A familiar voice cut through the panic.
**"Kuran! Here!"**
Timo's voice. He appeared from a nearly invisible crevice in the wall, a sliver of hope.
**"Move! *Now*! Before they reach us!"**
Kuran hesitated, but the terror of the nearing soldiers forced him forward.
He lunged toward Timo, who yanked him violently into the cramped passage. They squeezed through the suffocating space, emerging in a small, dark corner—hidden from sight, though not safe.
They crouched, panting, trapped by fear as the soldiers' footsteps grew louder, until it seemed they were right overhead.
Timo whispered, his eyes blazing with resolve: **"Kuran... they'll find us if we stay."**
Kuran, barely able to breathe: **"What... what do we do? We can't escape... we *can't*."**
Timo smiled—a sad, steel-strong smile—and said calmly, eerily: **"I'll lead them away."**
Kuran shuddered. **"No. Don't say that... Timo."**
But Timo gripped his shoulder hard. **"Listen. I'm faster. I know these alleys better than you."**
**"I'll distract them. You run the other way."**
Kuran's eyes filled with terror, rage, tears. **"Timo, *no*! This is madness! We find a way *together*!"**
Timo shook his head gently, as if he'd aged a lifetime in a moment. **"Kuran... you *have* to live. You're smarter than me. You've always known how to survive."**
Then he smiled, whispering tenderly: **"I'm tired of running."**
He pointed to Kuran's heart. **"Keep yours strong. And go... I won't watch you die here."**
Before Kuran could reply, Timo moved—a fleeting shadow—and leaped out of hiding.
He screamed at the top of his lungs, taunting the soldiers, kicking stones and making chaos: **"Come on! I'm here, you cowards! Is this all you've got?"**
The soldiers turned as one, creatures bred only for killing, and charged after him without hesitation.
Kuran, in shock, heard only the echoes of Timo's screams and hysterical laughter, fading with the soldiers' heavy footsteps.
Now he was truly alone.
In the dark corner, trembling, tears streaking his face, he whispered his friend's name like a prayer: **"Timo... Timo... Timo."**
But there was no answer.
He had to run. Despite everything.
He stood slowly, his eyes now a mix of pain and numbness.
And he crawled away, leaving behind the sound of his shattered heart and the echo of Timo's last laugh.
Kuran ran until his legs betrayed him.
The world around him was distorted—twisting alleys, scattered wreckage, flickering lights swallowed by smoke.
But he saw nothing.
His body moved on its own, but his eyes never left that alley where Timo's last cries had vanished.
In his ears, that reckless laughter still rang, mingling with the soldiers' guttural shouts: **"Come on! You want to catch me?"**
A mad, desperate laugh, rising above gunfire and stomping boots.
Then—suddenly—it stopped.
The world clamped shut in an iron silence. All sound vanished.
Kuran slowed to a halt, barely conscious, as if his heart had stopped beating.
He looked back toward the dark alley.
But there was nothing. Only smoke. And a silence so thick it choked him.
He stood there, gasping, shaking, as if his body had forgotten how to move.
Then, dust rained from above—another distant explosion—and a single scorched page drifted down, landing softly at his feet.
He stared at it, stunned, as if it were from another world.
A faded children's magazine page. A cartoon creature grinned up at him with a childish, wide smile.
Kuran fixated on the image, and a memory surfaced:
*Timo, laughing just hours ago, showing the same creature on his phone. "Man, I swear this'll save your life one day!"*
*Timo's laughter, loud and bright, while Kuran rolled his eyes, grinning.*
The memory was fleeting—a flash of light, then gone.
But it struck Kuran like a knife to the gut.
He bent slowly, picking up the page with trembling hands.
He studied it for a long moment before smiling—a small, bitter smile.
A smile that held no joy. Only the weight of everything lost at once.
**"Timo..."** he whispered, his voice broken, barely audible. **"You idiot... the biggest idiot in this world."**
He stood there, engulfed in silence, hearing only the pounding of his own heart.
The city burned around him. Explosions trembled in the distance. Flames licked the sky. But it all felt far away... so far from the solitude crushing him.
He closed his eyes for a moment, as if sealing the pain inside his chest. When he opened them again, a cold tear fell onto the page in his hand.
**"I won't let your sacrifice be for nothing,"** he whispered, a vow to himself.
Then he tore the page slowly, letting the fragments scatter in the wind, before turning his back and walking away.
His steps were heavy, but he didn't stop.
He walked through the alleys, moving forward, leaving everything behind as part of the ruin.
Kuran was alone now.
*Truly* alone.
At last, he paused, staring at the smoke-choked sky where stars should have been.
**"Goodbye, my friend,"** he rasped, his voice raw and broken.
Then he kept walking, vanishing into the shadows, while behind him, the echoes of Timo's last laughter faded—like a half-remembered dream.
His feet carried him over ash without thought. The city was no longer real, just a nightmare unraveling before his eyes.
The air reeked of smoke, burning flesh, melted plastic—a suffocating whirlwind of ruin. But his nose no longer registered it. All his senses had numbed.
His eyes were vacant, as if they'd forgotten how to see.
He passed a small bridge where a child had cried alone, then fallen silent forever.
Beside it, a woman's corpse stared at the sky with open eyes.
He stared at the scene for a moment, then moved on. His mind could no longer comprehend death or life.
He walked with agonizing slowness, his footsteps accompanied by the faint crunch of debris—and things he didn't want to think about.
Inside him, the silence was deeper than anything.
He stopped in an empty square, the heart of the ruin.
Remnants of the festival clung to the air—tattered decorations, charred flags, overturned furniture. Everything was upside down.
He lifted his head slowly.
There, in the square's center, stood an ancient statue, barely touched by the destruction, as if the ruin dared not approach it.
The statue of a king holding a book, his stone eyes staring into the void, his other hand raised as if delivering a judgment no one could hear.
Kuran stood before it, his body swaying, too exhausted even to breathe.
He stared at the statue for a long time, his features frozen, his gaze hollow. The statue mirrored his own face—as if the entire world had turned to stone.
Inside him, everything was screaming. But there was no sound.
His thoughts spiraled without end, a muddled whirlpool with no bottom.
*Why... why did I come here? Why didn't I stop him? Why isn't Timo here? Why am I the only one... left?*
Hot tears finally spilled down his face.
His hands shook slightly. He raised them slowly, as if he no longer trusted his own body.
He picked up a small stone from the ground, weighed it in his palm, then hurled it at the statue.
The stone bounced off the king's head with a hollow *clink*. No one noticed.
Not even the statue.
He kept staring, tears flowing without end.
**"Even you..."** he whispered, his voice trembling, as if speaking to the emptiness. **"You just stand there. Doing *nothing*."**
He laughed bitterly—a short, broken laugh laced with tears.
But he couldn't bear it anymore. He collapsed to his knees in the rubble, burying his face in his hands as sobs wracked his body.
Memories flooded his mind like a tidal wave—his mother's face, her laughter, her voice calling his name, her gentle hands brushing his hair, her loving gaze.
It all returned at once. Painful. Burning. Relentless.
He gasped, his soul suffocating, his body shaking.
Then, in the midst of it all, a single word escaped his lips—weak, hoarse, and lost:
**"...Mom."**
And he kept whispering it, like the last prayer in a burning world.