Chapter 5: The beginning of despair

Sensing the pulling force had vanished, the father—his back pressed against the wall—grabbed the roof, twisting his arms in the process. He had somehow anticipated that things might come to this. Still, what he had done was already the best course of action, even if it meant injuring himself. He couldn’t face the wall with his front, nor could he let his family take the impact on their backs.

Nova also knew this since the idea had come to his mind when he watched the family from afar.

With a smile and a face soaked in sweat, he grabbed the mother’s free hand—the one not clutching her daughter—and swiftly rotated the family to face the wall.

“Climb up, little girl!” said Nova.

Cyre loosened the rope that had been tied to the third layer. Her father had prepared the rope in three sections, dividing it to support each of them separately.

Climbing onto her father’s shoulders—helped by her mother lifting her up—Cyre was raised as high as her mother’s arms could reach. From there, she climbed the rest of the way on her own. Reaching the roof, she knelt down and quickly turned around, grabbing her mother’s hand, which was being pulled by Nova.

With Nova’s help and by supporting one another, Cyre’s mother and father safely made it onto the roof.

Cyre’s father let out a rough cough.

“Father!” shouted Cyre, still kneeling beside him.

Her mother quickly rummaged through her bag. After a few moments of frantic searching, she pulled out a water bottle and a small container of pills. She handed them to her husband. “Drink this, dear!”

After watching the father take his medicine, the young man pointed toward the nearest staircase. “Sorry to interrupt, but we’re running out of time. We need to head to the stairs right away.”

The father stood up and nodded. “You’re right. But before that, please allow us to express our gratitude.”

Following her husband, the mother stood up.

“Thank you, sir,” said the pair, bowing their heads in unison.

Cyre darted to Nova and wrapped her arms around him, burying her face into his stomach. “Thank you, Uncle,” she mumbled excitingly, her voice muffled by his shirt.

Nova chuckled, smiling warmly. “Haha, no problem. But I’m not an uncle—I’m only 25,” he said.

…

They were now on a road far from the creatures, far from their previous location. Nova was now leading the family to the path the young man had shown him.

“So, big brother, why did you grow a beard?” asked Cyre, swinging the hand that held Nova’s as she hopped over small vines scattered along the road.

“It’s depression,” said Nova, scanning their surroundings cautiously. His expression was serious.

“Cyre! That’s rude,” her mother snapped, rushing toward her with a flustered look. She tried to catch Cyre by the arm, her smile turning crooked—an awkward attempt to mask her embarrassment in front of Nova. “And stop talking! We need to focus. We are in a dangerous situation.”

“No, it’s fine, Miss Fey,” Nova replied gently. “Just… maybe not so loud.”

They had introduced themselves earlier.

“Then, why are you depressed, big brother?” Cyre asked, glancing up at Nova as she dodged her mother’s attempt to catch her.

“Ah, Miss Fey, please keep an eye out for a long, thick rope along the way,” Nova said, addressing the mother.

“And Mister Bernard, please take it easy for now. One person is enough to search for the rope. I’ll look around for a wooden board we can use later as a makeshift bridge.” added Nova.

Then, he turned his attention to Cyre. “As for Cyre… my depression came from something complicated. Since you’re still a kid, I’ll just say it was because of a betrayal that followed by a loss—though in the end, that loss turned out to be false. It was a misunderstanding on my part.”

Cyre tilted her head. “Betra… grief… fake?” She fell silent, her brows furrowing as she sank into thought.

“I won’t ask—it's not my place,” the father paused. “Let’s return to the earlier topic. I understand now why we need the board and the rope. It’s a bit embarrassing I didn’t realize it right away when you mentioned crossing over rooftops. The rope is to make a ladder, right? With knots tied at intervals?”

“Correct. By the way, if by any chance, a creature shows up, don’t hesitate. Run. I’ll draw their attention and hide myself afterward.”

“About that, as long as we’re not cornered, I think we’ll be fine,” said the father, pointing toward the bag his wife was carrying. “Do you remember my green torch? I still have a few spares.”

“I don't know if you still had spares, but yea…” replied Nova with a slight nod. But before he could finish his sentence, he was interrupted.

“Look, look here, big brother! This is the video I took of my dad making the green fire,” Cyre said excitedly, holding up her device. “He was being so funny, so I recorded him. I didn’t know anything about the monsters back then.”

The video showed Cyre’s father in the garage, holding a torch with a regular red flame. He was rummaging through the garage in a hurried frenzy. Then, with a serious expression, he began heating a stone, then occasionally tossed sand into the fire. Each addition changed the flame’s color, and with every shift, he dramatically altered his expression—sometimes scrunching his face, sometimes clamping his mouth shut, eyes wide and full of tears. The recording ended just as the flame turned green.

“About this video, I saw someone drive away a monster with the green torch while I was rushing home from work. So, I immediately tried to replicate it,” explained Cyre’s father.

“Nice job, mister,” said Nova.

“Nice job, Father!” said Cyre as she ran over and wrapped her arms around him.

“Then the only thing left is to make sure we don’t get cornered, right?” said Miss Fey.

“Nah, don’t worry about that,” Nova replied calmly.

The three turned to look at him—and there stood Nova, a massive hammer slung over his shoulder.

…

Several minutes had passed by the time they reached the mid-rise buildings area. As Cyre was still a kid, she had fallen asleep, worn out from the journey. Once they climbed onto the first rooftop, they set out without delay. Using the wooden board and knotted rope they’d prepared, they moved swiftly across rooftops, hopping from one building to the nexts.

Along the way, they shared various conversations. But one conversation in particular left a lasting impression on Nova: a quiet, heartfelt request from Cyre’s parents. They asked him to look after their daughter, should anything happen to them. What struck Nova even more was what followed—they revealed that Fey, Cyre’s mother, possessed the ability of future sight.

In the future, both of them would die, and Cyre would be left alone—or so they said.

When Nova urged them to change that future, they only shook their heads and replied, “We’re planning to try, too. But our survival isn’t certain. So… please take care of our daughter when the time comes.”

Somehow, Nova agreed to it.

After that exchange, they walked in silence.

…

One hour and ten minutes had passed since Nova last checked his wristwatch. Only an hour remained until the time limit. But for now, they were just two hundred meters away from the stairs, standing on the final rooftop before the flat land.

A grand sight welcomed them. A vast, dark field enclosed by green-lit barricades, surrounded by hundreds of creatures.. The barricades stretched out in all directions, forming a perimeter nearly a hundred meters wide. At one-meter intervals, green flame torches flickered along the barricades, their eerie glow keeping the creatures at bay. In the center of it all stood a stairs, rising boldly.

In the distance, on the outside of the barricade, a group of people holding torches spread out in various directions. Each group of torchbearers encircled a cluster of people, shielding them from all sides. Surrounded by the creatures, they pushed forward, trying to pierce a path through the swarm toward the safety of the barricade.

"In such a catastrophe, there are still so many kind people out there," said the father.

"It's such a beautiful sight, right, dear?" the mother added, her voice soft with relief.

Nova nodded in response, his eyes scanning the area, taking in the scene and evaluating the situation further.

Meanwhile, Cyre remained asleep on her mother's back, oblivious to the tense atmosphere surrounding them.

"Hey, look over there, they’re acting strange," said Nova, pointing to his right.

On Nova's right, atop the roofs, a group of people stood holding green fire torches.

"You’re right," the father replied, his voice laced with concern. “Cough!” His body still hadn’t fully recovered. "Each one of them is holding a green fire torch. It would be easy for them to pierce their way to the barricade safely. But with the time limit so close, they’re just doing nothing. Some of them are even lying down on the roof, lazily watching the barricade."

“But aren’t they just brave?” Cyre’s mother asked. “Even if you combine the two hundred meters and the height of the stairs, it would probably only take about five minutes. Maybe they just enjoy the thrill?”

“No, not in this situation,” Nova and Cyre’s father both replied at the same time.

They exchanged a glance, and Cyre’s father continued, “All of them are adults. They know that something unexpected might happen in these final twenty minutes. Honestly, it feels like even that won’t be enough.”

“Yeah, but it’s their choice,” Nova said, looking around once more. “We won’t interfere in someone’s business when they clearly don’t need help. They’re not in danger.”

Nova spotted a group being chased by creatures as he looked around.

"Hey, they clearly need help," Nova said, his tone urgent. "From their position, the people at the barricade can’t see them. I’ll get them to the barricade's people fast.”

A hundred meters to Nova’s left, on the road, a group of five was being attacked by the creatures. They only had one green fire torch to defend themselves. A hundred meters ahead, toward the barricade, torchbearers stood waiting—eyes scanning for anyone who needed saving.

“Okay, we’ll wait here,” the couple said in unison.

Taking one of the green fire torches and leaving the other behind, Nova jumped down from the rooftop, landing lightly on a streetlamp before hopping onto a fence and finally the road. He ran with all his might, determined to rescue them.

As he dashed forward, he stole a glance back at the family—his heart tugged with concern for their safety.

However, the sight surprised him. The father’s legs were being dragged down—pulled by someone who had suddenly appeared from a window on the rooftop.

'They’ll be fine... right?' Nova thought, trying to reassure himself. 'Cyre’s mother already saw their death moments. Something like a sudden grab—something they can easily foretold—shouldn’t be enough to kill them… right?’

Clenching his jaw, Nova forced himself to turn away and resumed his sprint toward the people in danger.

…

Five minutes later, Nova successfully saved the five people and guided them safely toward the barricade's people.

Only fifteen minutes remained until the time limit.

He rushed back, clutching the torch tightly and doing his best to keep the green flame alive. When he reached the spot where the family had been, darkness greeted him. The torch’s light had vanished—but just in case, he checked .

To his relief, the mother was still there, carrying Cyre on her back. But the father was nowhere to be seen.

Nova was greeted by the mother’s silence.

Slowly, she turned to face Nova—and in that moment, he finally saw her face.

“Let’s go to the stairs immediately, I don’t want to lose my daughter too…”

Her wail tore through the quiet rooftop.

Nova froze. His eyes widened, his face turning pale. Without a word, he darted around, frantically searching for the father.

Moments later, he stopped.

Lying nearby was a body—limp, twisted like torn rags. The face was crushed beyond recognition.

Nova clenched his jaw tight. His right hand gripped the wooden handle of the torch so hard it splintered with a sharp crack. Despair and anger swirled in his eyes as they locked onto the broken body before him.

When the broken, shortened torch began to slip from his grasp, he caught it swiftly with his other hand.

“Let’s go,” he said—his voice low and heavy.