He awoke with a violent jolt.
The glass of the containment tube shattered with a shrill screech. Clear liquid spilled across the cold floor, and his body was thrown outward—slamming hard against metal tiles, the sound echoing through the entire room. His breath caught. His lungs burned, as if they were being forced to work for the very first time. A cry burst from him, raw and uncontrollable, like a newborn's wail… but the sound was too deep, too aware.
His hands trembled as they pressed against the floor. His fingers were long and thin, his pale skin looking fragile yet unfamiliar. He crawled forward, slipping on the liquid from the broken tube, crashing into a steel table and sending strange tools clattering to the ground. Every noise made him flinch in terror.
The room was silent—too silent. Only the flickering neon lights, the low hum of old machines, and the sound of his own sobbing filled the space.
Then he saw the glass.
A reflective panel, cracked at one corner, leaned crookedly against the wall. Slowly—driven by a fear he couldn't explain—he approached it. His crying faded, replaced by heavy, uneven breaths.
A face stared back at him.
He froze.
That… was him?
His eyes widened. The reflection held the eyes of a confused infant, full of fear and innocent curiosity. But the face—this face—was not a baby's. The skin looked mature, faint lines tracing the corners of the eyes and mouth. The jaw was fully formed, the cheekbones sharp and defined. Sparse hair clung wetly to his scalp.
A baby… who looked far too old.
His hand lifted, touching his own cheek. In the glass, the creature mirrored the movement. His lips trembled.
"A… a…?" His voice was hoarse, barely forming a sound.
Shock gave way to a deeper, more suffocating fear. Whatever he was—he understood one thing instinctively, without being taught—
He was not meant to exist like this.
And behind the glass, behind eyes far too old for a body just born, his first true awareness took shape:
that this world had done something terribly wrong to him.
---------
A stretch of wild grass spread out before them, the wind stirring dry leaves and the last remnants of stubborn flowers. In the distance, houses that had once been ordinary now stood half-ruined—walls cracked, wood rotting with age, roofs on the verge of collapse. Nature had begun to reclaim the place, turning it into something that felt like part of the forest itself.
"Arthur… I'm hungry," a small voice said from behind him.
Belly walked along at Arthur's side, her feet sinking into the damp grass. Her face was cheerful despite the dirt and dust clinging to her. Her large brown eyes reflected an endless curiosity, her shoulder-length brown hair slightly tangled from their journey. She wore an oversized jacket, torn pants at the knees, yet her smile remained warm and energetic.
Arthur walked ahead, his steps firm but calm. Tall and lean, his pale skin was faintly reddened by the cold and hunger. His straight black hair fell over part of his forehead, giving him a mysterious air. His dark gray eyes scanned every corner of their surroundings with sharp vigilance. He rarely smiled, but every movement showed his care for Belly—always keeping a safe distance, always making sure she stayed close.
They walked, talking casually.
"I haven't eaten either," Arthur replied, his voice flat but steady. "But we'll look for something over there."
Belly's eyes sparkled as she looked at the ruined houses. "Do you think there's still anything edible?" she asked, hopping lightly over a tree root jutting from the ground.
Arthur glanced down at her. "We have to be careful. But if there is… I'll make sure you get your share."
Belly laughed softly, jumping again as sunlight filtered through the ruins and caught in her hair. "You're cold, but… I like how you look out for me," she said, lightly touching his arm.
Arthur looked at her briefly, said nothing, only lowered his shoulders slightly—as if in quiet agreement.
They finally reached the ruined settlement. Tall grass wrapped around cracked walls, and the wind carried the scent of damp earth. The place was silent, but to them, the nature-devoured houses felt… safe, at least for now.
Belly crouched among piles of decayed wood, stuffing charcoal into her canvas bag. "Not bad… this should last us a few days," she muttered with a smile, her eyes bright with excitement.
Arthur, as always, remained calm but alert. His gaze swept every corner of the house being slowly swallowed by nature. "Be careful… don't miss anything," he warned, his voice low and tense.
Then, beneath the broken wooden floor, they found a hidden panel. Arthur pushed aside the fragile planks, revealing an iron staircase leading down—a secret bunker.
Belly stared into the darkness, her breath catching. "What is this…?"
They descended the stairs, metal groaning beneath their feet. A damp, chemical stench filled the air. Dim emergency lights cast shifting shadows along the walls, heightening the tension.
And there it was—a lab.
Tables stood scattered with shattered tubes and half-destroyed electronic equipment. Among them lay humanoids—artificial humans. But the most horrifying thing…
They were all dead.
Some were crushed, others partially burned, some looked as though they had simply collapsed in despair.
Belly swallowed hard. "This… this is insane… why would anyone…?" Her voice trembled, eyes wide with horror.
Arthur's grip tightened around the axe he always carried. His eyes sharpened, ready for anything that moved.
Then—something did.
In the corner of the room, a small motion.
A humanoid… still alive.
A teenager, around fifteen years old. Naked, thin, his pale face twisted with fear. He hid behind a table, eyes wide as he stared at them. His breathing was fast, shaking—clearly terrified, trying to remain unseen.
Arthur stepped forward, axe raised, his breath heavy. "Come out!" he ordered, his voice cold and firm, ready to kill if the humanoid moved.
But Belly grabbed his arm, stopping him. "Arthur… wait!"
She looked at him, then back at the trembling figure. "Look at him… he's scared. He's not dangerous. We can't… kill him."
Arthur hesitated, his body tense, then slowly lowered the axe slightly. Belly approached the humanoid carefully, her smile soft.
"Hey… I'm not going to hurt you," she said warmly, trying to make him feel safe. The boy's eyes remained wide, his body shaking, but little by little, he lowered himself from his hiding place.
Arthur stayed behind them, watchful, axe still in hand—but no longer threatening.
Belly glanced back at Arthur and smiled faintly. "He just… needs someone," she said.
And in that lab, surrounded by death and horror, meeting the lone surviving humanoid, they all realized one thing:
this world was darker and more insane than they had ever imagined.
Belly quickly removed her jacket and draped it over the humanoid's naked body, her hands trembling slightly as she adjusted the fabric over his shoulders. He bowed his head, shivering beneath the oversized jacket, his eyes still wary but relieved as the cold and fear eased.
"Easy… I won't hurt you," Belly said softly but firmly, gently patting his shoulder. The humanoid only stared back with wide eyes, silent, breathing fast.
Arthur lowered his axe completely but remained beside them, alert. "We can't just take him with us… this could be a trap," he said, his voice cold and sharp.
Belly shot him a glare, crossing her arms. "Arthur… he's not a threat. He needs help. Look at him—he's terrified."
Arthur exhaled slowly, eyes fixed on the trembling figure. "And if he hurts you?"
Belly bit her lip, but she didn't back down. "I'll watch him. We can't leave him like this… alone. I don't care—we're taking him to the temporary base."
Arthur stared at her. The tension hung thick in the air. Belly didn't move. After what felt like an eternity, Arthur finally let out a long breath and nodded. "Fine… but you're fully responsible," he said, his voice still hard, but resigned.
Belly smiled in relief. She turned to the humanoid and slowly extended her hand. "Come on… we'll take you somewhere safe. You don't have to be afraid. I'm here."
The humanoid stared at her hand for a moment, still trembling, then slowly—carefully—reached out and took it. Belly held his hand gently, making sure he felt warmth and safety he had never known before.
Arthur followed behind, axe in hand, eyes scanning their surroundings. He didn't fully agree, but for now—he knew Belly was right.
As the three of them left the bunker together, one thing was clear:
the world was brutal—but within the darkness, they carried a small fragment of humanity with them.
Belly glanced back at Arthur with a light smile and patted his shoulder.
"Arthur… you carry him. I'll walk ahead and keep watch," she said casually.
Arthur sighed, then carefully lifted the humanoid into his arms. The boy's body was fragile, his arms limp, his legs unable to support him. Like a newborn—utterly unaware of the world. Arthur glanced at him briefly, his eyes still cold and wary, but his grip adjusted instinctively, making sure the boy was secure.
Belly walked ahead, green grass swaying beneath her steps. The afternoon sun lit her cheerful face as the wind played with her hair. She spoke lightly, as if chatting with an old friend.
"You know… when he just stays quiet like that, it's strange—but kind of cute. Like… he's just been born, but his eyes… they're full of fear."
Arthur nodded slightly. "He's weak. Very weak," he said flatly, his gaze never stopping its scan.
Belly smiled softly, looking out at the beautiful stretch of land ahead. "I wonder… once he understands language, what kind of story he'll tell," she murmured.
Their steps felt peaceful, even as the shadow of the bunker lingered behind them. The humanoid remained silent in Arthur's arms, his small body trembling slightly, eyes wide with curiosity, yet understanding nothing.
Belly stopped for a moment and looked back. "Hmm… I think he needs a name," she said thoughtfully. "If I get to choose… a name that fits him…"
She smiled and gently patted the humanoid's hair. "Later… I'll give you a proper name, so you won't just be 'humanoid' anymore," she said warmly.
Arthur raised an eyebrow but said nothing, his gaze still fixed on the fragile figure.
Belly continued walking, the evening wind tugging at the jacket wrapped around the humanoid. Between their steps, there was an odd sense of calm.
And there—beneath the wide sky, with the fragile humanoid cradled in Arthur's arms—Belly felt something new begin to form:
a bond that would change the way they faced this broken world.