THE STRAY DOG

It had rained the night before.

Not the kind of rain that shouts against windows or floods streets.

No, this was softer. Sadder. Like the sky wasn't angry — just tired.

And now, morning sunlight slipped between clouds like shy glances.

Everything was wet.

Not soaked — just kissed.

Leaves. Rails. Stone walls.

All glistening, like the world had woken up a little cleaner... a little lonelier.

Marshy sat alone on the boundary wall behind the school.

Same spot. Same stillness.

Back straight. Legs folded. Eyes open but somewhere else.

He didn't shift. Didn't blink.

The only movement was in his fingers, lightly tapping the side of his wristband — like a habit that didn't know it was a habit yet.

No beeps. No vibrations. No alerts.

Nothing came.

Just birds.

And a distant tempo of life moving forward without asking anyone's permission.

Then he heard it.

A sound no one else would've noticed — but Marshy wasn't anyone else.

A whimper. Weak. Painful. Trying to hide but too tired to succeed.

His head turned slowly, gaze sharpening like the lens of a camera zooming in.

Below the wall, in the alley behind the last school block, next to a broken pipe and a crooked bicycle — lay something small. Something breathing.

A dog.

A stray. Black fur caked in old mud. Ribs visible. Limbs trembling.

It tried to move but winced and fell again.

Right paw bent wrong. Blood — dark and crusted — near its leg.

The dog looked up at Marshy, and their eyes met.

Marshy didn't speak.

Not at first.

He just stared — not coldly, not curiously — but like someone looking into a cracked mirror.

Then, softly:

"You're damaged. Bleeding. Alone.

And yet… you haven't given up."

No judgment. No pity.

Just... observation.

He dropped from the wall silently, landing on the wet ground like a whisper.

Walked forward slowly, calmly, and knelt beside the creature.

The dog growled. Low. Defiant. But its body sagged like an old curtain on a broken rod.

Still, it didn't crawl away.

"Do you want to fight?" Marshy asked, more to himself than the dog.

The dog looked at him again. No bark. No threat.

Just... eyes that had seen too much.

And then, against every instinct it should've had — it placed its head gently on Marshy's outstretched palm.

A pause.

In that single moment, Marshy felt something he didn't have a word for.

A flicker inside. Not big. Not loud. But real.

"Why would something so broken still trust?"

"Why am I glad it does?"

He didn't have answers.

But for the first time in weeks, the silence around him didn't feel empty.

It felt... shared.

He stood up.

Carefully picked the dog up in both arms.

It was heavier than it looked. Not by weight — but by everything it had been through.

"Come," he said softly. "Let's see if I can fix something... outside of myself."

And he walked off, through the trees behind the school.

Rain-kissed leaves brushed his arms.

The world didn't notice.

But something had shifted.

Same Morning – Deeper Into the Trees

The city faded behind him.

One step at a time, Marshy walked deeper into the forest behind Maria's Day School. The ground was damp. Leaves crunched soft and wet under his shoes.

No one followed him here. No teachers. No students.

This place... didn't belong to Earth.

And yet, it's where Marshy felt the most human.

He carried the dog gently — careful not to shake the injured leg, adjusting his hold every time it whimpered.

Once, he paused near a thicket of bamboo and looked down.

"You're quiet now," he whispered.

The dog blinked slowly, exhausted but watching.

"That's the part I don't understand.

You hurt... and you still look at me like I matter."

A crow cawed nearby. Wind rustled through tall sal leaves.

Marshy kept walking.

The Clearing

At the heart of the forest stood a circle of smooth stones, camouflaged by fallen leaves.

From a distance, it looked like nothing.

But Marshy knew better.

He stepped on one stone. Waited.

A flicker.

A pulse of faint blue light shimmered over the air — invisible to human eyes — and slowly revealed a structure hidden in plain sight.

It wasn't made of brick.

It wasn't from Earth.

But it stood silent, humble, as if trying to blend into a world it never belonged to.

Inside was dim. A quiet hum filled the air — like metal breathing.

But none of it mattered now.

Marshy placed the dog gently onto a dry patch of moss he'd collected.

Then knelt.

His fingers moved over a panel.

A thin beam of light — soft and warm — scanned the dog slowly from head to tail.

The dog twitched but didn't resist.

"Canis familiaris," the display pulsed.

"Strain: Indian stray. Age: 2 years. Health: Minor internal bruising. Limp trauma. Dehydration."

Marshy read it once.

Then sighed. A soft sound. Almost... tired.

Moments Later

He lit a small fire.

Real fire. Wood. Heat. Smoke.

He'd learned it weeks ago — from a local villager near the edge of the colony. Watching quietly. Imitating.

Now it felt... honest.

Marshy pulled out an old Earth ration bar from his kit — protein-rich, survival-grade — and crushed it into pieces.

He placed the chunks in a tin plate and slid it gently toward the dog.

It sniffed.

Waited.

Then, slowly... started eating.

One piece. Then another.

Marshy watched, unmoving.

"You fear, yet you accept help," he murmured.

"Perhaps... that is strength. A kind I don't yet understand."

The dog paused between bites, looked up at him.

Tail wagged once.

Just once.

But Marshy felt something inside shift again — like a locked door shaking under quiet knocking.

"Sheru," he said softly. "That's what they call brave street dogs in films, right?"

The name lingered in the air.

Felt weird on his tongue.

Too... warm.

But the tail wagged again.

So it stayed.

"Sheru it is."

An Hour Passed

Sheru curled up beside the fire, belly full, breathing slower now.

Marshy sat nearby, not looking at him — but listening.

To the crackling of wood. The shifting of breath. The presence of something real beside him.

Not a mission.

Not a report.

Just... a living, broken thing that didn't give up.

"You're not like the others," Marshy whispered, gaze still on the fire.

"You didn't ask who I am.

You didn't fear me.

You didn't question my silence."

He looked down.

Sheru was asleep now, paws twitching lightly — dreaming, perhaps, of streets or survival or nothing at all.

> "You trust," Marshy said. "And I don't know if that makes you foolish… or the strongest thing I've met here."

He reached out.

Placed his hand lightly on Sheru's side.

The fur was still damp. Still smelled like rain and blood.

But it was warm.

And for the first time in months —

so was Marshy's palm.

Next Morning – School Side Gate, 7:42 AM

Maria's Day School was buzzing early.

Socks half-pulled, uniforms crumpled, school bags swinging like sleepy wrecking balls.

Morning bell hadn't rung, but the day had already begun.

Ayush sipped from a juice box, leaning near the gate pillar when he spotted him.

Marshy.

Same straight posture. Calm steps. Eyes forward.

But something was… different.

Marshy held a small paper packet in one hand.

In his other hand, walking beside him—

was Sheru.

A stray dog.

In a school.

Wearing a loose string like a makeshift collar, tail low but wagging once in a while.

Ayush raised an eyebrow.

> "What's that?"

Marshy glanced at him. "Food."

"For?"

Marshy didn't answer.

He just turned and kept walking—along the side path that led to the school's broken back wall.

Sheru trotted beside him, limping slightly but determined.

Ayush didn't follow.

He just watched.

And for the first time since meeting Marshy,

he smiled without sarcasm.

Later That Day – Corridor Outside Class 9-A

The bell rang for recess.

Kids stormed out, running toward samosas and overpriced juice.

In the chaos, Maya leaned against a pillar, pretending not to watch — but eyes following a very specific movement down the hall.

Marshy.

And… Sheru.

Again.

The dog stood just outside the class door, waiting patiently like he belonged there.

His fur still patchy. A thin cloth wrapped around his bad leg.

But his eyes were bright. Loyal. Watching only one person.

Maya stepped toward Marshy.

"You named him?"

He nodded.

"Sheru."

She chuckled. "Bit dramatic, don't you think?"

Marshy looked at her finally.

Eyes calm. Voice softer than usual.

"He fights silently. Endures pain. And follows without needing anything in return."

Pause.

"What else do you call something like that?"

Maya didn't reply immediately.

She just looked down at Sheru.

He wagged his tail once.

And Maya…

smiled.

Same Time – Ravi's View

He saw it all.

From behind the staircase grill — half-hidden, like anger itself didn't want to be caught watching.

Sheru.

Maya smiling.

Ayush patting the dog.

Marshy… standing like some quiet hero from a movie.

Ravi's fists clenched.

"What is this guy even doing?"

"Why's everyone suddenly acting like he's the main character?"

He kicked the grill lightly. The sound echoed.

His breathing was louder than it should've been.

"He's pretending. Faking.

I'll break that mask soon."

Lunch Break – Rooftop Corner

Sheru lay near Marshy's feet, chewing on a half-roti that someone had thrown at them.

Marshy sat near the railing, staring out over the trees, arms crossed.

Ayush showed up late, carrying two soft drink bottles.

"I didn't bring dog food, so… orange soda will have to do."

Marshy didn't laugh — but he did take the bottle.

Sheru wagged his tail as Ayush scratched behind his ear.

"Didn't think you'd be the type," Ayush muttered.

"What type?"

"The kind who… you know, gives a damn."

Marshy looked down at Sheru.

"He reminds me of something your world has that mine never did."

Ayush looked at him sideways. "And that is?"

Marshy paused. Then:

"Loyalty. Without reason."

For a second, neither of them spoke.

Then Ayush said:

"You're weird, bro. But good weird."

And Marshy…

he smiled.

A real one. Tiny. Almost invisible.

But Sheru saw it first — and barked softly.

Day 6 — After School, 4:27 PM

It was one of those skies that couldn't decide.

Grey clouds hung low like they were listening.

The kind of clouds that feel heavy, like they're carrying secrets they don't want to spill just yet.

School was over. Students were leaving, their laughter already fading behind school vans, wet shoes squeaking on tiled floors.

But behind the third stairwell, near the old iron gate that led to the rooftop...

Ravi waited.

He wasn't smirking this time.

He just stood there. Quiet.

Fists clenched in the pockets of his school pants.

Jaw hard. Shoulders tight.

He'd been waiting for this since the day Marshy had walked into their lives like someone cut from glass and silence.

Then he saw them.

Marshy.

Ayush.

Maya.

And...

Sheru. The injured stray who now followed Marshy like a shadow that wagged its tail.

Ravi stepped forward. His voice was clear, heavy, sharp.

"Marshy. You and me. Rooftop. No crowd. No eyes. Just truth."

Ayush stepped ahead. "Why don't you—"

But Marshy raised a hand gently.

His voice, as always, was steady.

But something about his eyes had changed.

They weren't cold anymore.

They were… calm. Understanding.

"It's okay," Marshy said. "This isn't about proving.

It's about pain. His."

Maya flinched slightly. Something in her chest tightened.

And Sheru? He growled low, like he knew what was coming.

Rooftop — 4:36 PM

The wind hit first.

Not violent. Just... fast.

Like the sky was warning them. Like the clouds were whispering, "Don't."

The rooftop glistened with leftover drizzle. Small puddles reflected broken clouds.

Ravi stood ten steps away, cracking his knuckles slowly.

He looked like a volcano dressed in uniform.

Marshy stood still.

Hands at his sides.

No fists. No stance.

Sheru sat behind him, tail curled, head tilted.

"You pretend," Ravi snapped.

"Like you're above all of us. Like feelings don't touch you."

Marshy replied without blinking.

"I'm not above you, Ravi.

I'm beside you. You just don't see it."

That hit deeper than fists ever could.

Ravi growled and ran.

The Fight Begins

A punch. Wild.

Marshy swayed — clean dodge.

A second blow — Marshy ducked under it like wind.

He didn't fight back. Not once.

Just moved. Slipped. Watched.

"FIGHT ME!" Ravi screamed.

"Why?" Marshy asked softly.

"To prove I'm not afraid?

Or because you are?"

Ravi roared.

He spun. Leg rising. A wide sweeping kick.

That's when it happened.

The Moment the World Broke

Sheru.

He had sensed something wrong — had limped forward toward Marshy, as if trying to help.

Ravi didn't see him.

His leg connected.

A crack. A yelp. High. Sharp.

Sheru's body lifted off the floor.

Time collapsed.

Everything went quiet — death quiet.

Marshy's head turned.

And in that moment, his eyes changed.

They screamed.

He didn't yell. Didn't curse.

He moved.

The Jump

One step. Two steps.

Three.

And Marshy — without thought, without care —

jumped off the roof.

Third Floor Balcony

Ayush was halfway up the stairs when he heard the scream.

Maya's voice. "SHERU!! MARSHY!!"

Ayush burst through the rooftop door — just in time to see Marshy in mid-air.

Mid-air.

Not falling. Not flying.

Diving.

Arms out. Body twisting.

Sheru was tumbling downward, small black body flipping like a leaf caught in a storm.

Marshy's hands reached out.

Caught him. Mid-fall. Pulled him close to his chest.

But Marshy himself was falling fast.

Ayush didn't think.

Didn't pause.

"NO NO NO—!!"

He lunged over the third floor railing.

His hand grabbed Marshy's jacket collar.

The pull nearly broke his arm.

Marshy's momentum yanked Ayush forward.

His feet slipped.

His elbow jammed into the railing bar. Pain shot through his spine.

"HOLD ON!" Ayush screamed.

"I've got you—"

Sheru whimpered in Marshy's arms.

Ayush dug his heels into the floor. Socks sliding. Arms shaking.

The weight of a boy and a dog pulling him forward like gravity was angry.

But he didn't let go.

Not for one second.

Not when his shoulder popped.

Not when his wrist started to burn.

Not even when blood trickled down his forearm.

He pulled.

With everything.

And with a final heave—

THUD.

All three crashed onto the concrete balcony.

The Silence After

Sheru was alive. Whimpering, but safe.

Marshy's eyes were wide.

Chest heaving. Arms still wrapped protectively around Sheru.

Ayush lay beside them, gasping, holding his own shoulder.

"You absolute... psycho…" he coughed.

"You... jumped... for a DOG!?"

Marshy looked down at Sheru.

Then at Ayush.

And then said — voice cracking, barely audible:

"No.

I jumped…

for my friend."

Above — Ravi Frozen

Ravi had watched everything.

His hands were still in fists.

But they trembled now.

Not from anger.

From... something else.

He looked down at his foot.

Then at his hands.

Then turned around.

And walked away.

No words.

No winner.

Just a boy...

…who realized he might be the villain of his own story.

That Night — Forest Clearing, 9:41 PM

The moonlight filtered through the trees in thin silver threads.

A cold wind whispered through branches, like a lullaby made for no one.

At the center of the clearing, in the grass still wet from evening drizzle,

Marshy sat beside a flickering campfire.

He wasn't moving.

Not scanning.

Not analyzing.

Not even breathing deeply.

He was… just there.

His knees bent. Hands folded.

And beside him, wrapped in an old towel and gently snoring — Sheru.

The dog's side rose and fell slowly.

Fur still damp. Bandage crooked. Tail twitching every now and then in dream.

Marshy stared into the fire like it was speaking in a language only he could hear.

He had jumped.

Off a rooftop.

To save someone who couldn't even say thank you.

Why?

He touched his wristband.

A soft glow flickered.

The screen appeared above his arm — transparent, ghostly.

TRUST MATRIX — UPDATE:

SUBJECT: SHERU — 96%

EMOTIONAL PRIORITIZATION: EXTREME

RISK-RESPONSE ANALYSIS: ILLOGICAL

SURVIVAL INSTINCT: BYPASSED

NOTE: THIS IS NOT A STANDARD HUMAN BEHAVIOR.

He stared.

Then closed the hologram with a tap.

"Not standard," he whispered. "But maybe... that's why it matters."

He turned his head slowly.

Sheru let out a small snore, twitching in sleep.

"You didn't think I'd catch you, did you?"

Sheru's paw slid a little, as if answering.

Marshy smiled — tired, broken, soft.

"I didn't think I would either."

And then, with a shaking breath he didn't understand,

Marshy reached out — and let his hand rest on Sheru's head.

No mission.

No rule.

Just… warmth.

Meanwhile — Maya's Bedroom, 10:07 PM

The room was quiet except for the ticking of her table clock and the scratching of her pen.

Maya sat cross-legged on her bed.

Notebook open.

Eyes raw.

The page was almost full.

"He doesn't talk like us."

"He doesn't look scared when things fall."

"He doesn't bleed when insulted."

"But today… he jumped."

"Not for pride. Not for attention."

"He jumped for a dog."

She paused.

Looked at the last sentence for a long time.

Then, below it, she wrote slowly:

"Or maybe… he jumped for the first thing he's ever called family."

Her eyes welled up a little.

She wiped them before they could fall.

Not because she was weak.

But because she felt something she didn't know how to name.

"What are you, Marshy Verne?" she whispered into the empty room.

But no answer came.

Only silence.

And the gentle hum of a boy somewhere deep in a forest, holding a dog like he finally had something to lose.

Final Silent Scene — Capsule Interior, 11:01 PM

Inside the hidden capsule, sensors flickered.

The onboard system, long dormant, suddenly pulsed.

A single new log entry auto-generated, without Marshy even noticing.

EMOTIONAL STABILITY — SHIFTING

MISSION INTEGRITY — FLUCTUATING

COMMENT: SUBJECT HAS FORMED ANCHORS.

DANGER: ATTACHMENT DETECTED.

RESPONSE: NONE.

Then…

For the first time since landing,

the system whispered softly into the darkness:

"Humanity… uploading."