“Happy birthday, Stephanie.” Steph stared at the book for a long, silent beat.
She took it slowly, her fingers tracing the cover before she flicked through the crisp pages.
Finishing the scan, she clutched the volume tightly against her chest.
Tears welled in her eyes, but her expression twisted into sudden, furious anger.
“You…
you’re telling me you breached the walls for this?!” she yelled, her voice trembling.
“You risked your life for a book?!” Kuon’s eyes widened.
After a moment of hesitation, he gave a quiet, honest answer: “Yes.” “Why?!” she demanded.
“You could have just waited until it was rotated into the storage vault after the next exchange!
Is waiting a few days really that hard for you?!
Or have you completely lost your mind?!” “I know…
but…
it’s your birthday today,” Kuon offered softly.
“I couldn’t think of anything better to get you.
So I…
had to try.
But don’t worry, nothing happened.
I’m right here.
I’m fine.” Steph went silent.
Her head dropped, her shadow falling over the book held tightly in her hands.
Then, her composure snapped completely.
“Seriously!” she sobbed, throwing her hands up.
“Do you have any idea how terrified I was?!
You always act like you’re invincible!
Like you’re completely sure you’re never going to die and leave me all alone!” Kuon stepped forward and pulled her into a tight embrace.
A dark grimace crossed his features.
Steph buried her face against his tunic, her hot tears soaking through the fabric.
Her voice came out choked with raw honesty: “Every time you go past that wall, I can’t stop thinking that one day you’re not coming back.
That you’ll get caught by the patrol and executed…
and I’ll be left here all by myself…” Kuon gazed down at her, his yellow pupil dimming into a weary ember.
‘I’m sorry…’ He opened his mouth to speak, but Steph cut him off, her hands balling into fists against his back.
“F*ck this book!
If this stupid thing is what gets you killed, I don’t want it!
Just…
just promise me you’ll never do something like that again!” A sad, gentle smile touched Kuon’s lips.
He stroked her hair, letting out a long breath.
“I won’t…” “…Promise?” Kuon cleared his throat, his tone steadying.
“I promise.” ‘You fool…
As long as I’m breathing, I will never leave you.
That’s a real promise.’ After a few quiet seconds, Steph let out a wet, choked laugh.
Kuon blinked.
“Huh?” Steph pushed back from his chest, wiping her face with her sleeve as a faint smirk broke through her tears.
“Ha!
Look at that.
I made you get emotional.
I win!” “Why, you little—” Kuon started, but he couldn’t hold back a laugh himself.
Stephanie wiped her eyes, took a deep breath, and walked over to the neatly set wooden table in the center of the room.
She pointed to a chair.
“Sit down.” Kuon obliged instantly.
As he settled into the chair, he asked with cautious suspicion, “Don’t tell me—” “Yes.
I cooked dinner tonight.” “Steph, how many times have I told you—” “If you’re going to complain, don’t eat,” she snapped, setting her jaw.
“The door is right there.” “Come on.
You wouldn’t let your handsome older brother starve, would you?” A wooden bowl was promptly shoved in front of him.
Inside was a thick, gray sludge that Kuon took a full three seconds to identify as porridge.
“Just eat,” Steph said, sitting opposite him and crossing her arms.
Kuon picked up a carved spoon, hovering over the bowl for an awkward moment before bravely taking a bite.
It was slightly scorched around the edges and heavily salted, but remarkably…
it wasn’t terrible.
In fact, he was genuinely impressed she hadn’t set the hearth on fire.
“It’s actually good,” Kuon said, looking up.
“I’m impressed.” “As you should be,” Steph replied coolly, taking a bite of her own portion.
Yet despite her stoic expression, the hint of a proud smile flickered at the corner of her mouth.
*Sniff.* *Sniff.* Kuon paused.
The rich scent of baked goods still lingered in the air.
He wondered how Steph had managed to procure the ingredients for a cake, let alone bake it without burning the cottage down.
*Knock!
Knock!* A sharp rap on the outer door startled them both.
Kuon stood up immediately, calling out, “Who’s there?!” A deep, masculine voice answered from the other side.
“It’s Lev!” Kuon let out a breath, relaxing his shoulders.
“Door’s open, come on in!” The heavy latch lifted, and a tall man stepped through the frame, pulling the door shut behind him.
He wore a faded white shirt, his messy golden-blonde hair looking like it hadn’t seen water in weeks.
Pale gray eyes looked out from a lean, angular face.
At six feet tall, he towered over Kuon, though his lanky frame kept him from looking particularly intimidating.
He looked to be in his late twenties, carrying the permanent posture of someone who spent his days avoiding notice.
“Hey there,” Lev drawled, offering a lazy wave.
“Good to see you’re still among the living.” “Shut up.” “Giving me the cold shoulder?
Not very polite,” Lev chuckled, pulling up a spare stool between Kuon and Steph.
Steph looked at him politely.
“Good evening, Lev.
Would you like some porrDidge?” “No thanks.
I already ate.
Two whole loaves of artificial bread and two glasses of real milk.” Kuon nearly choked on his water.
“What?!
Two?!
Where did you get two whole loaves?!
Is there even that much left in the vault?!” “Let’s just say this month’s trade went exceptionally well,” Lev said with a satisfied grin.
“Eat up.
Who knows when we’ll see a haul like that again.” The Ruins were the absolute bottom of the world—a place abandoned by the high spires of the Ascendant Pyramid.
There was no infrastructure here.
No municipal water, no supply lines, no medical care.
The only reason the sector hadn’t collapsed into total starvation was the Grey Market—an illegal, underground exchange network that shuffled food, tools, and black-market goods between the lower working districts of the Drift and the outer Ruins.
The authorities turned a blind eye to small offenses, but resource smuggling into the Ruins carried severe penalties.
Every exchange was a tightrope walk.
The most dangerous part was the retrieval.
Because the First Great Wall severed the sectors completely, someone had to breach the perimeter through hidden routes, collect the goods, and carry them back into the Ruins while avoiding patrol drones and Superhuman enforcers.
Normally, that dangerous duty fell on Kuon.
But this month, Lev had taken the run—and clearly, it had been a massive success.
Kuon sighed, the corner of his lips pulling into a faint smile.
“Well…
I guess I’m hitting the storage vault tomorrow.
We’re having a feast.” “Invite me over for dinner, then,” Lev chimed in.
“Get lost,” Kuon shot back without heat.
Steph stood up, clearing her bowl.
“I’ll go get the cake.” “Thanks, Steph,” Kuon said softly.
A minute later, she returned carrying a modest, round cake.
It wasn’t artisanal—the frosting was cheap artificial cream glazed over slightly overbaked sponge—but a single tallow candle flickered proudly in the center.
She set it down in front of Kuon.
He looked at it, then up at her.
“Since when do you know how to bake?” “What?
Is there a problem?” “No, I’m just amazed the kitchen is still intact.” “Oh, quiet!” Steph huffed, turning red.
“Besides, I had help.
Mr.
Lev did most of the mixing.” Kuon’s head snapped toward Lev, who was covering his mouth, desperately suppressing a fit of laughter.
After a few more lighthearted jabs, the three of me wished Steph a happy birthday, sharing the cake in a rare spell of genuine peace.
*** Late that night, after Stephanie had reluctantly gone to bed, Kuon and Lev climbed out through the loft window onto the cottage’s flat stone roof.
“Do you think they’ll ever treat us like humans?” Lev asked softly, staring up at the dark horizon.
“Honestly?
I don’t care,” Kuon replied, leaning back against the chimney.
“Whether their views change or not, our reality stays the same.” A beat of silence passed before Lev let out a faint laugh.
“You know, Kuon…
you look terrifying at night.
If I didn’t know you, I’d swear I was sitting next to an Urban.” Kuon grunted.
“…F*ck off.
Seriously?” Lev wasn’t entirely joking.
Kuon’s appearance had always unsettled people.
His dark, unruly hair fell forward in jagged strands, casting deep shadows over his face.
That part was normal enough—half the kids in the Ruins looked unkempt.
It was his eyes that disturbed people.
His right pupil was a void of absolute, pitch-black darkness—so deep it looked as though light itself died inside his skull.
Staring into it for too long gave the sickening sensation of gazing into an bottomless pit.
His left eye was the exact opposite.
A sharp, golden-yellow luminescence burned within it, glowing like a smoldering ember in the dark.
It wasn’t bright enough to illuminate a room, but it was impossible to mistake.
One eye swallowed the light.
The other created it.
In the pitch-black alleys of the Ruins, that golden eye was often the only part of Kuon visible in the night.
More than once, scavengers had mistaken him for a demon wandering the stones.
Others swore he was an Urban wearing a boy’s skin.
They both laughed softly, the brief sound cutting through the cold night air.
For a fleeting moment, the Ruins felt a little less bleak.
Eventually, the laughter faded.
A natural, heavy silence returned between them—the kind of quiet that belonged to the night sky above.
Far above the decay of the lower sectors, the constellations burned with cold, ancient brilliance.
Stars scattered across the black expanse like fragments of a shattered crown.
It was the only thing left in the world that felt untouched by war, class, and rot.
Night in the Ruins was terrifying.
Yet under the stars, it possessed a strange, quiet beauty.
Lev broke the silence, his voice dropping into a solemn register.
“Tell me…
why?” “Hm?” “Why take all these risks for us?” Lev asked, staring out over the dark skyline.
“Why handle the wall breaches?
Why put your life on the line every single day for people who have nothing to offer you?” Kuon didn’t answer right away.
He looked out over the endless sea of ruined stone, watching the wind sweep through the dead streets.
He let out a long breath.
“Isn’t it obvious?
You know why.
Everyone here knows why.” He turned his head to face Lev.
Under the starlight, his mismatched eyes gleamed with an unsettling intensity.
“It’s because I’m the strongest.
I’m faster than anyone here.
I think faster, I react faster, and I hit harder.
If I don’t do it…
who will?” Lev went rigid.
Looking at the sixteen-year-old boy sitting beside him, Lev felt a sudden, chilling realization.
Kuon spoke without arrogance or pride—just absolute, cold objectivity.
He sounded like someone who had never been allowed to be a child.
The weight the boy carried was immense, yet to Kuon, the logic was painfully simple.
Lev let out a quiet sigh under his breath.
‘Kids should be kids…’ He looked back at the horizon.
“Even so…
with your talent, you and Stephanie could breach the outer rim for good.
You could make a fortune in the mid-tier sectors.
You know…
by hiding and all that.
Why stay?
Why keep carrying the Ruins on your back?” Kuon went silent again.
The night wind pulled at his cloak, rustling his dark hair.
One eye consuming light.
One eye forging it.
Then, a small, genuine smile touched his face.
“Why else?” Kuon murmured, his gaze settling on the distant stars.
“The strong should nurture the gentle.”