Chapter 7: Sang and Etsu

The cold night wind whispered through the bushes and trees surrounding the fence. Standing before it, Sang closed his eyes, feeling the breeze against his skin. His bowl-cut hair swayed gently.

His eyes opened, spotting a small hole beneath the fence—roughly dug, likely by a child who didn't care for precision. Without hesitation, he crouched and crawled through, the branches brushing against his pale skin. As he emerged from the thick bush, his breath caught in his throat.

The sky stretched wide before him.

Twin moons shone through the canopy, casting silver light upon the swaying leaves. Above, the stars burned fiercely, untouched by the haze of the city. For the first time in forever, Sang felt peace.

The world was silent.

The wind guided the trees into a slow, rhythmic dance, and Sang followed its lead.

He walked aimlessly, his fingers trailing across the rough bark of trees, feeling their texture as if he were one of them. His eyes sparkled with wonder. He could smile again. And this time, it had nothing to do with his mother.

The distant hum of the city faded.

All that remained were the whispers of nature—the leaves brushing against each other, the rustling grass, the soft sounds of life moving unseen.

Then, something caught his eye.

A small pack of alien-blue foxes padded toward a lake, their four tails swaying in unison. Tiny pups followed, their fur shimmering under the moonlight.

Sang's lips curled into a grin.

He trailed behind them, moving with quiet steps as if he were part of their pack. His expression, though eerie, carried only pure joy.

The foxes stopped at the water's edge.

Sang, hidden behind a tree, watched as they drank from the still, mirror-like pond. The reflection of the two moons shimmered on the surface, stretching across the rippling water.

Curiosity pulled at him.

Carefully, he crept forward and knelt beside the foxes. When he dipped his hands into the cool water and brought it to his lips, the foxes didn't flinch. They didn't flee. They simply accepted him.

For the first time in his life, he felt like he belonged.

But then, something beyond the lake caught his attention.

A cave.

Its entrance was dark and gaping, carved into the earth like a waiting mouth.

The foxes and Sang parted ways.

He moved forward, slipping between rocks and stepping into the cave's shadows. The path was slick with damp stone, and the walls glistened with slimy moss. Yet, the deeper he went, the lighter he felt.

With each step, the weight of his old life peeled away.

His mother. His father. Their expectations. Their hatred.

By the time he reached the exit, he wasn't the same boy who had entered.

The air was crisp and clean. Moonlight bathed the open clearing beyond the cave. And there, in the center of it all, stood a massive rock formation, flat and smooth like a resting place built just for him.

Sang climbed. The jagged edges scraped his knees, his palms stung from the rough surface, but he didn't care. He reached the top and stood, his chest rising and falling with exhilaration.

The entire city of Umbra Nexus stretched before him.

From here, it looked so small. So distant.

He sat. Then he lay back, letting the night sky consume his vision.

A long sigh left his lips. His eyelids grew heavy. The world had finally quieted—no yelling, no punishments, no disappointments. Just him and the stars.

Then—

A sharp snap.

A branch breaking.

His body tensed. His eyes snapped open.

Sang sat up quickly, expecting another fox, another animal—anything but this.

Standing at the cave's exit, bathed in pale moonlight, was Etsu.

Their eyes locked.

Neither moved.

Not because of fear. Not because of shock.

But because, for the first time, they didn't feel alone.

The wind howled, pushing past them, lifting Etsu's long hair from his face. Their gazes met, full and unobstructed.

Sang tilted his head.

Etsu did the same.

And then, as if drawn by something unseen—

They both stepped forward.