BACK IN THE QUARANTINE ZONE
The fluorescent lights in the command tent buzzed softly, breaking the heavy silence hanging in the air. Maps were pinned across every wall—red circles, scribbled notes, shifting patrol routes. Soldiers moved quietly outside, their boots crunching against gravel, the morning fog still clinging to the ground.
Inside, Captain Reeve stood stiffly in front of his superior, helmet tucked under his arm. His voice wavered only slightly.
"Yes, General… not three. Four kids," he reported.
"They took firearms… and food rations. Maybe enough for a week."
General Harada didn't speak at first. He just exhaled through his nose and pinched the bridge of his forehead, like the headache had been sitting there all night waiting.
"Four kids," he repeated quietly, as if the number tasted wrong.
"How the hell do four children breach two security gates?"
Reeve swallowed.
"One of them knew the blind spots, sir. Cameras on the west tower were down for maintenance. They slipped out during shift change."
Harada's jaw tightened.
"Great," he muttered. "So we're training soldiers who can't outsmart teenagers."
He pushed away from the desk, pacing once before he stopped and stared at the map of the surrounding wilderness—the dense woods stretching far beyond their perimeter.
"They won't survive out there," Harada said, voice low.
"There are infected animals. Rogue camps. Bandits. And now—" he tapped a red marker on the map, "—that thing roaming near the forests."
Captain Reeve nodded quietly. He had seen the mauling from last week. He remembered the blood.
"But they left with rifles," Harada continued. "Rifles we can't afford to lose."
He capped his marker with a decisive click.
"Send a patrol. Full gear. Two squads."
Reeve stiffened.
"Yes, sir. Should we bring them back to base or—"
"Alive," the General cut in sharply.
"Bring them back alive."
His voice softened just a fraction after.
"They're just kids… even if they're reckless."
Reeve gave a small nod, turned, and pushed through the tent flaps. Orders were shouted seconds later. Engines roared. Soldiers strapped on armor and loaded magazines.
General Harada stared at the map alone, eyes tracing the forest line.
"Four kids against that world…" he murmured.
"Dammit… I hope they're still alive..
The briefing yard buzzed with restless energy as soldiers strapped on gear, checked magazines, and slung rifles over their shoulders. Captain Reeve stepped forward, voice loud and clipped:
"Alright everyone.
General Harada finally gave the order—"
The chatter died down.
"We're going after the kids. And we bring them back alive."
A wave of groans rolled through the squad.
"Oh come on," someone muttered.
"They stole from us. Guns, ammo, rations—made us look like idiots. Why the hell do they get mercy?"
Another soldier snorted, chambering a round with unnecessary force.
"For real. Those little punks deserve worse. They nearly cost us a week of supplies."
"Cut it out," Reeve warned, but they weren't listening.
One of the younger soldiers—Kaito, all nerves and clenched fists—spoke up shakily.
"They… they haven't done enough to be killed," he said.
"They're just kids, man."
"Kids with guns," one soldier shot back.
"Out there, that's as bad as adults. They wanna play grown-ups, they get treated like grown-ups."
A mocking voice rose from the back:
"Yeah, yeah sure… says the guy who suddenly grew a conscience."
Two soldiers leaned in, smirking at Kaito.
"Oh right—now it makes sense."
"It's because your sister's one of them, isn't she?"
Kaito froze, color draining from his face.
"What's her name again?"
The soldier sneered exaggeratedly.
"Ana? Anna? Something like that?"
A few others chuckled.
Kaito's jaw tightened so hard it trembled.
"She's out there because she had to be," he snapped.
"You don't know anything about her."
"Ohh look at him, getting all heroic," another soldier mocked.
"Relax, boy. Daddy Harada said we're not allowed to shoot them anyway."
Reeve finally stepped in, voice booming:
"Enough!"
The yard went silent instantly.
"We follow orders. We track them. We bring them back alive.
Anyone who shoots without command goes straight to lockup. Understood?"
A row of reluctant nods followed.
Reeve glanced at Kaito—just a second, silent and understanding—before pulling his helmet on.
"Move out."
Engines rumbled to life.
Gates creaked open.
The patrol rolled toward the forest, dust rising behind their wheels.
And somewhere in the back of the formation, Kaito whispered under his breath:
"Please be safe, Anna…
Back to the treehouse
Hey, your pond… is it safe to use?"
Tenya asked after they finally finished installing the new solar panels.
"Wtf do you think?"
Mirko shot back immediately.
"I've been bathing in that thing since I can't remember."
"How tf would I know you're not carrying weird diseases in you?"
Tenya said, flopping down beside Izuku.
They were exhausted—arms limp, shirts sticking to their backs after all that climbing and rewiring.
Anna lay with her head on Aiko's lap, one leg dangling off the wooden floor.
"Do you guys think they'll come after us?"
Anna asked quietly.
The entire place froze.
Tenya actually flinched.
Even Izuku, half-asleep, opened his eyes.
"They always catch the ones who run away…"
Anna added, voice smaller.
"I hope not," Aiko said, brushing hair from Anna's face.
"We're safe here. Going back is the last thing I ever wanna do."
"They won't know you guys are here, right?"
Mirko asked, unsure, tapping the floor with a stick.
"You're dumb."
Aiko didn't hesitate.
"Wtf do you mean they won't know where we are? They're trained soldiers. They track—"
CRAAACK—
Everyone jumped.
Izuku lifted a hand.
"Relax… it's just the damn squirrel."
He pointed at a chubby squirrel on the railing, proudly nibbling one of their stolen nuts.
But Tenya wasn't laughing.
His eyes scanned the trees, jaw tightening.
"We shouldn't get comfortable," he said quietly.
"They move fast. And if they think we stole weapons… they'll send more than just trackers."
Aiko swallowed.
"How long do you think we got?"
Izuku exhaled slowly, lying back against the wooden beam.
"A day… maybe two. Depends how desperate they are."
Silence.
Only the wind moved.
Mirko finally broke it with a sigh.
"Well… great. Love the vibes. Totally peaceful. Not stressful at all."
Aiko flicked a pebble at him.
"Shut up, idiot."
They all laughed—tired, tense, but needing it.
Even if danger was climbing closer with every hour…
for a moment, the treehouse felt like a real home.