Kael and the creature approach the settlement indicated by the smoke. They observe from a distance first—a small community of survivors barricaded in an old school building. Guards patrol the perimeter, armed with makeshift weapons.
The emotionally detached Kael analyzes the situation with cold logic. He still has the capacity for basic trust in his creature companion, the last thread connecting him to his former self. The creature remains protective and concerned for him, trying occasionally to establish emotional connections that Kael doesn't reciprocate.
As they approach the settlement, they're spotted by guards who react with hostility toward the creature. Kael attempts to explain that it's friendly, his voice flat and matter-of-fact. Some of the survivors are skeptical but allow them inside the perimeter after disarming Kael.
Inside the settlement, Kael observes how the survivors function—their hierarchies, their rules, their fears. He notices how they regard his creature companion with suspicion and whispers among themselves. An older man named Marcus seems to be the leader, questioning Kael about where he came from and what he's seen. Kael answers mechanically, providing information without emotion.
When asked about his parents, Kael simply states, "They're dead." No emotion, just fact.
The survivors offer Kael food and shelter, but insist the creature remain outside their main building. Kael accepts this logically, though the creature seems uneasy. That night, Kael sleeps in a real bed for the first time since everything changed. The creature keeps watch outside his window.
In the middle of the night, Kael is awakened by commotion. Looking outside, he sees several of the settlement's members surrounding his creature with weapons. Among them is Marcus, who appears to be directing them. Through the partially open window, Kael hears fragments of their conversation—concerns about allowing "one of them" to stay so close, fears that it might be "how the infection spreads."
The creature sees Kael at the window and makes a sound—not of fear for itself, but of warning to him. It gestures for him to stay hidden, to not reveal himself.
One of the survivors lunges at the creature, who deflects the attack without harming the human. It's clear the creature is trying not to hurt them, even as they attack it. Another survivor throws a net over it, entangling its limbs.
Kael watches this scene with increasing physiological signs of distress—elevated heart rate, shallow breathing—though his face remains impassive. When one of the survivors drives a sharpened pole into the creature's body, something flickers in Kael's eyes—the first real emotion since his mother's death.
The creature fights back now, but it's outnumbered. As it takes more wounds, it keeps looking toward Kael's window, as if its primary concern is still his safety. In its final moments, the creature uses the last of its strength to break free from its attackers, rushing toward the building's back exit—away from Kael—drawing the mob away from where the boy is hiding.
Kael silently follows through the darkened hallways, keeping out of sight. He watches through a doorway as the creature is cornered in the settlement's storage room. Marcus delivers the final blow himself, declaring it necessary for everyone's safety.
As the creature falls, its eyes find Kael one last time. There's something like acceptance in them, even peace. It had fulfilled its purpose—protecting him until he found other humans. It makes a soft sound, almost like the purring from when they first met, before going still.
Something shifts inside Kael at that moment. The last thread connecting him to his former self—his basic trust in the creature—snaps. The flicker of emotion vanishes, replaced by something colder, harder.
He waits until the settlers leave, taking the creature's body with them to dispose of outside the perimeter. Then, with calculated efficiency, Kael gathers supplies from the storage room—food, water, a knife, matches. He moves through the settlement like a ghost, taking only what he needs, what will ensure his survival.
He overhears two guards talking about plans to "check the boy for signs of infection in the morning," and "quarantine him just to be safe." Kael processes this information without panic, only strategic consideration.
Before dawn breaks, he slips out through a window, avoiding the guards. He doesn't look back at the settlement. There's no anger or betrayal in him—those emotions are beyond him now. There is only cold assessment: these humans are a threat to his survival, just as the hostile creatures are.
As he walks away into the breaking dawn, Kael's thoughts are clear and singular: he will survive. Not for any purpose, not for humanity, not for memory of those lost. Simply because survival is the logical imperative. Everything else—compassion, connection, hope—these are weaknesses he can no longer afford.
The sun rises on a child who is no longer a child, whose innocence died twice: first with his mother, and finally with the creature who had been his last connection to what he once was. Now, there is only the survivor, moving through a hostile world, belonging to neither the human settlements nor the transformed creatures
Not on the monsters side neither on the humans side he is simply alone