The rain had started again—soft, like whispers on the rusted roof.
Teji crouched by the small, dim fire inside the derelict storage bunker. The place was quiet, forgotten. Tucked beneath the edge of the outskirts, it used to be a checkpoint from a war no one talked about anymore. Now, it was just shelter.
The air smelled like wet earth, smoke, and old metal.
Agent 7 lay nearby on a makeshift bedroll—his jacket off, his chest wrapped in rough bandages. Teji had done it himself. Torn cloth, whatever disinfectant he could find, and fast hands. It wasn't clean, but it was enough to keep him breathing.
The three kids sat against the far wall, close together. They didn't talk. Just watched. Still flinched every time Agent 7 shifted or let out a groan.
Teji didn't say anything either.
He sat down beside the injured man, one arm resting on his knee, staring at the slow rise and fall of his chest. Each breath looked like a struggle. Part of Teji still wondered if he should've left him back there—buried under the rubble.
Part of him still wasn't sure about anything.
Then—
A sound. Quiet. Fragile.
Sniffling.
Teji looked over. The smallest of the kids—the one with dark, messy hair and scraped knees—was crouched beside Agent 7. His sleeve moved across his face, wiping tears that kept falling anyway.
Teji's voice was low, almost a growl. "Why do you care about him so much?"
The boy didn't answer right away. Just stared at the sleeping man.
Then, barely above a whisper, he said,
"He saved me from them. They used to strap me to machines… It hurt so much I wanted to die."
The words weren't loud, but they hit hard. Like a punch to the gut.
Teji's jaw clenched.
There was a rustle. A shift in the bedroll.
Agent 7 groaned. He moved his head slightly, eyes fluttering.
A dry, cracked voice broke the silence.
"…Where am I?"
Teji leaned in slightly, still guarded but calm. "I brought you here. The kids too—from the building. No one knows we're here. Not even Boizano."
There was a pause. Agent 7 blinked slowly, like he was trying to remember where he'd been before the collapse.
Then he spoke again, voice raw.
"They told me it was a harmless test… Said they'd just check his potential…"
His eyes opened, bloodshot and tired. He looked at the boy who'd cried for him, and for a moment, all the fight was gone from his face.
Just guilt.
Just pain.
"I didn't know they'd torture him. I tried to pull him out, but I was too late. I broke. That's when I ran."
Agent 7's voice cracked near the end. His gaze didn't meet Teji's—it was locked on the boy beside him.
"He's my little brother."
Silence followed. Heavy. The only sounds were the rain and the soft pop of the fire.
Teji stared at the kid—small, quiet, still curled beside the man who once worked for the place that hurt him. Brother. That word echoed too many times in Teji's head.
But before he could ask anything, the second kid spoke.
A girl. Around ten or eleven. Pale from the cold, bruises fading into her skin. She had been silent all this time, just watching.
Now, she stared at Teji. Not afraid. Just curious. Like she was trying to figure something out.
"You have his eyes," she said softly.
Teji blinked. "Whose?"
She hesitated. Looked down at her feet.
"The man in the white coat… He once showed me a photo. Said it was someone important."
Her voice dropped to a whisper. "It looked like you."
Something shifted in Teji's chest. Sharp. Unsettling.
The girl continued, slow and careful. Like she was afraid of getting it wrong.
"Back when they took me… I got lost. Wandered into a room. There was a file on the screen. Big words. I only remembered some."
She looked up again, this time her eyes had a flicker of fear.
"It said Project Legacy: Subject T-01. There was a face. It was him. The man from the photo. The one who looked like you."
Teji didn't move.
Didn't blink.
Didn't breathe.
The fire crackled louder now. Like the world was holding its breath.
His mind raced. Faster than his heartbeat.
T-01. Subject. Legacy.
His father's face. His own eyes.
Then—another voice.
Low. Distant. From the shadows.
The third kid.
He sat furthest from everyone, curled up with his arms wrapped around his knees. He hadn't said a word since they arrived—just stared at the wall, listening.
Agent 7 stirred slightly, turned his head toward the boy.
Teji followed his gaze. "He hasn't said a word."
The girl leaned in, her voice low. "That's Deka. He's… quiet. Scared most of the time. But he's smart. We grew up together. Me, him, and—"
She glanced at the first boy, the one still curled close to Agent 7.
"—his brother."
Teji looked at Agent 7. "You rescued all three?"
Agent 7 winced but gave a slow nod.
"That wasn't the plan."
His voice was rough—like gravel pushed through his throat.
"I was only going to take two. Thought it'd be faster. Safer."
His hand clenched weakly over the blanket.
"But when I tried to leave… they screamed. Said they wouldn't go without him."
He paused, eyes drifting toward Deka in the corner.
"Boizano didn't even care about that kid. They left him in a room by himself. No lights. No food sometimes. Like he wasn't even worth testing."
A breath.
"But they cared."
His voice cracked at the edges.
"So I went back."
Silence.
But not the same kind as before. This one was full—of weight, of pain, of choice.
Teji looked again at the three kids.
Airis, still sitting close, eyes always watching. The boy—Kimi—resting near Agent 7, like a shadow that never left his side. And Deka… hidden in the corner, quiet, but listening to every word.
Each of them meant something.
Each of them had been forgotten by Boizano.
But not by him.
And Agent 7—he wasn't just a rogue anymore. Not just a traitor.
He was something more dangerous than a killer.
He was someone with a reason.
A protector.
And reasons… they made people hard to break.
Teji's eyes settled on the girl beside him.
"What's your name?"
She blinked. Then, quietly: "Airis."
Teji's gaze flicked to the boy still curled near Agent 7.
"And his brother? Agent 7's…?"
"Kimi," Airis said. Her voice trembled, just a little, but she didn't look away. She held Teji's stare, firm despite the weight behind her words.
Teji exhaled through his nose. His voice dropped low.
"Where are your parents?"
Airis looked down for a moment. Then, quietly:
"We don't know our parents. We're orphans. But not from the same place… Before Boizano took us in, we came from different orphanages. Different cities."
Teji's jaw tightened.
"I'm not a good person, okay?"
His voice was rough now, raw and honest.
"I've killed people. A lot of them. Done things that don't go away just because I want them to. So if you don't want to trust someone like me… I get it. I wouldn't either."
He looked at the sleeping kids—Kimi, Deka. Then back at her.
"But I swear to you—Boizano's not getting any of you back. Not while I'm breathing."
Airis frowned. She didn't speak right away. Then—softly—she reached forward and wrapped both her hands around Teji's right hand.
Her palms were small. Cold. But steady.
"No," she whispered. "Don't say that."
She squeezed his hand tighter.
"You are a good person. I saw it in you."
That hit harder than Teji expected. Deeper than it should've.
She wasn't lying—he knew that. He'd studied microexpressions, tone shifts, eye movements. She wasn't trying to survive with flattery. She wasn't confused. She believed it.
And that was what shook him.
Because deep down, somewhere he hadn't touched in a long time, a thought echoed.
Am I?
The campfire crackled softly. Its light danced against the walls of the half-collapsed shelter they were hiding in.
Agent 7 sat near the fire, back resting against a broken support beam. His wounds were wrapped in makeshift bandages—torn fabric, gauze, whatever they had. The kids lay nearby, finally asleep. Deep sleep. Safe sleep. The kind they hadn't known for weeks.
Teji stood just behind him, arms folded, eyes watching the flames. His face was unreadable.
Agent 7 didn't turn when he spoke.
"They were just experiments to Boizano. That's all they ever were. Test subjects. Tools. Notes in a report."
His voice was quiet. Detached. But underneath, it was cracked and hollow.
"We were trained to shut it out. Compartmentalize. Look past the screaming. Past the eyes. And we did. I did."
He reached into his coat with a slow hand and pulled out a crumpled piece of paper. It looked like it had been folded and unfolded a hundred times. He scribbled something on it—just a number—then held it out behind him without turning.
"I know you're staying. Still digging. Still chasing whatever's left."
A pause.
"You're not like me. You still have time to choose who you want to be. But when it gets too dark… when the line blurs…"
His voice softened, almost a whisper.
"Call me. I'll come."
Teji took the paper slowly.
This time, there was no hesitation. No distrust.
He nodded once.
"I'm not done there yet. There's more I need to know. About my father… and why I'm even part of this."
Agent 7 didn't answer. He didn't need to.
Just another quiet nod. A silent understanding between two men who were never meant to care—who were built not to. But here they were.
Two ghosts, finally choosing to stay.
The fire crackled. Wind passed through the broken frame of the shelter, soft and cold.
Then—
Buzz.
Teji's phone vibrated in his pocket. He pulled it out, screen dim against the night.
Tamiki:
"Hey Teji. I'm Tamiki. Are you free later? I need to talk to you… maybe over some snacks? I'll pay :)"
He read it once.
Then again.
His thumb hovered for a moment before he typed.
Teji:
"Where did you get my number?"
A few seconds passed. Then:
Tamiki:
"Still saved your old one. Same number before you disappeared."
He stared at the screen.
For some reason, that hit harder than he expected.
She still had it.
Even after all this time.
His lips twitched. Just barely. A ghost of a smile.
Like something long buried had stirred for the first time.
Teji:
"Yeah… I think I could use that."
He slid the phone back into his pocket.
Looked up at the sky—dark, cloudless, quiet.
The kind of silence that didn't feel empty.
For the first time in a long while, Teji didn't feel like running.
[End of Chapter 7]