Mutant.

As darkness settled, an eerie calm embraced the weary warriors. The once lively chatter within the house faded, replaced by a comforting silence. The oppressive exhaustion that had clung to their bodies throughout the day seemed to ease. Muscles, sore from walking, relaxed. Aching feet found relief. Minds, burdened with worry, lightened. The fatigue that washed over them wasn't the kind that drained—it was the kind that beckoned them toward restful sleep.

One by one, half of the group left the house, carrying torches with white flames that flickered like spectral guardians. They moved toward the other shellter they had cleaned earlier, their figures swallowed by the night.

Inside, those who remained began selecting places to sleep. There weren't enough beds for everyone, so some chose to share, while others spread blankets across the wooden floor, making do with whatever comfort they could find. As they prepared to rest, Jose's gaze landed on Dalia, who sat cross-legged near the dim light, pulling bread and dried meat from her knapsack. She handed the food to Cassian, the boy eating without a care.

Jose hesitated before speaking. "Gonna sleep by yourself?"

Dalia's fingers tore off another piece of bread, her expression unreadable as she glanced at him. "What, wanna sleep with me?" she asked, her voice laced with amusement. "Sorry, Jose. I'll be sleeping with Sian over here." She nodded toward Cassian, who, oblivious to their conversation, remained focused on his meal.

Jose's face darkened with embarrassment. Behind him, laughter erupted—Hector and the others chuckled, and even Jeremy, who rarely laughed, covered his mouth, giggling. Ignoring them, Jose walked to the corner of the room, grabbing one of the blankets laid out on the floor and turning his back to them, staring at the wall.

I just wanted to give her another blanket for the kid, he thought bitterly.

Dalia, meanwhile, waited for Cassian to finish eating. When he was done, she lifted a hand, conjuring a small sphere of water no larger than her palm. "Come, little Sian. Drink, then get to sleep."

Cassian obediently took a sip before curling up near the wall. Dalia removed her chest armor, unstrapped her arm guards, and pulled off her boots before lying down beside him. Without another word, she draped a blanket over them both, her breaths evening out as she slipped into slumber.

***

The torches burned low, their white flames flickering once before vanishing, plunging the room into darkness. Soon, everyone slept.

Everyone—except Cassian.

He lay awake, golden eyes glowing faintly in the pitch-black room, his small body tense and damp with sweat. Beneath his skin, pain pulsed through his scraped hands and bruised knees. Though the injuries were minor—nothing more than what any child would get from a fall—he could feel them mending, each stitch of healing flesh sending sharp waves of agony through him.

This was the price of darkness.

For as long as he could remember, he had known this truth: when night fell, the world found peace, but for him, it brought only suffering.

He wanted to scream. To thrash. To fight against the torment.

But he couldn't.

Because it didn't matter how much he struggled—once someone was asleep, they wouldn't wake until daylight came. That was how it was. That was how it had always been. Nobody could help him.

So, instead, Cassian slipped silently out from beneath the blanket, his bare feet hitting the cool floor. He moved to the door, each step unsteady yet soundless. Despite his movements, no one stirred.

Pushing open the door, he stepped into the night.

Unlike others, Cassian could see through the darkness. Not in color, but in a world of shifting shadows, black and white. Everything was there, yet hollow, as if the night had stolen the world's soul.

His sharp gaze swept across his surroundings. Then, he saw him.

A man.

Taller than any Cassian had ever seen, with broad shoulders, thick muscles, and long, unkempt hair. His skin was an unnatural shade of gray, his presence imposing, like a mountain standing against the night. He stood unmoving before a small house, watching, waiting.

Any other person would have felt fear clawing at their throat.

Cassian did not.

He felt something else entirely.

Curiosity.

A strange, unshakable sense of belonging.

Drawn to the figure, Cassian walked forward, his steps deliberate. When he was close enough, the man's gaze shifted, heavy and unreadable, meeting Cassian's golden eyes.

Even under the man's piercing stare, he did not waver.

The silence between them stretched, thick and suffocating, until the man broke it with a voice deep and powerful.

"A mutant."

Cassian tilted his head. "What?"

The man studied him for a moment before asking, "Tell me, kid. What's your name?"

Cassian hesitated before answering. "…Cassian."

The man murmured the name under his breath, as if testing its weight. Then he looked at Cassian again.

"Cassian… A strange name. No, more like an old name. A name of the old tongue," he mused. "But fitting for a mutant. Ah, yeah—my name is Ezo."

Cassian stood still, his body aching, his face damp with sweat, but he listened carefully.

"Sorry, Mr. Ezo… what is a mutant?"

Ezo raised an eyebrow, seeming momentarily surprised by the question, before his face returned to its neutral state.

"A mutant is someone like me. And someone like you," he answered simply.

Cassian frowned slightly.

Ezo continued. "Even though darkness surrounds us, we don't feel tired like normal people would. But at a price—immense pain when our wounds heal. Some say it's a fitting curse for monsters like us."

"Monsters?" Cassian repeated, his voice laced with confusion. He wasn't a monster.

Almost as if reading his thoughts, Ezo spoke again.

"It seems you think you aren't a monster. But I can tell your transformation has already begun. The fact that you can look me in the eye without fear proves it. The way you talk, the way you suppress your emotions, even while in pain—most children would cry. You don't. Even though I cannot see you in the dark, I can feel your presence. You are already a mutant."

Cassian was silent.

His thoughts swirled.

Surprise. That was what he should be feeling. No… not surprise.

Fear.

Yes, fear was what he should be experiencing.

He should be terrified of the changes happening within him.

And yet…

As he stood there, deep in thought, a sudden burst of laughter snapped him back to the present.

Ezo chuckled, running a hand over his forehead. "Haha. Thankfully, happiness is not one of the emotions I've lost. Seeing young mutants' faces always makes me laugh."

Cassian stared, unsure of what to say.

Before he could respond, Ezo's laughter faded. His expression shifted in an instant, turning sharp, unreadable.

"It seems you've lost fear," he said, his voice quiet yet firm.

Cassian blinked.

A shiver ran down Cassian's spine—not from the cold, nor from the pain, but from the weight of those words.

"You are incapable of feeling fear," Ezo stated.

Cassian swallowed.

For the first time that night, the pain in his wounds no longer seemed to matter.