"Little brother! Can you hear me?"
Ethan raced through the hollowed remains of what used to be a city block, boots pounding against cracked concrete as he weaved between collapsed pillars and broken walls. Wind rushed past his ears, carrying the faint scent of dust and decay. In the middle of that chaos, his sister's voice rang clearly inside his head.
"As clear as day," he answered without slowing down. A grin tugged at his lips despite their situation. "It really is a blessing having your voice in my head."
Even without seeing her, he could almost picture Sylvia's expression.
"In that case, we'll begin," she replied dryly. "Time for dinner."
…
It had started the day after they ate the khaerix.
Their bodies had changed overnight. Muscles felt denser. Their senses sharper. But the real surprise came hours later.
"Right now… I didn't move my mouth."
Sylvia stood frozen, staring at Ethan.
He blinked, then nodded slowly.
'What's going on?' she thought.
"I don't know," Ethan replied immediately.
Her eyes widened. "I wasn't talking to you."
A crease formed between her brows. Having your younger brother casually respond to thoughts you never voiced aloud was not something anyone could prepare for.
'It honestly isn't that bad. I'd love to know what you're thinking every day.'
Sylvia flinched so hard she nearly stumbled backward. Ethan rushed forward and caught her by the shoulders.
"What happened? Was that an attack? A side effect?" His voice came out fast and tight, worry evident as he scanned her face and posture for any signs of injury.
She stared into his eyes—and something clicked.
'No… I'm not just guessing what he's thinking.'
She focused.
The faint murmur in her head sharpened, like tuning a radio from static into clarity.
'You can hear me too?' Ethan's mental voice carried unmistakable shock.
'Yeah. Looks like it goes both ways.'
A short silence followed, then—
'I love you, Sylvia. I might break the legs of your future partner. Maybe his hands too. Just to be safe, don't get married. Ever. And—'
'That's enough.'
'I was testing the limits. Seems like we can only hear surface thoughts. Or the ones we're intentionally projecting. Did I mention my sister is an angel?'
'No, you didn't. And I'm not.'
She scowled and closed her eyes. In her mind, she imagined the invisible thread connecting them snapping apart.
The voice vanished instantly.
Silence returned.
"Try talking to me," she said.
Ethan nodded and shut his eyes in concentration. Several seconds passed before he opened them and shook his head.
"Looks like I'm the only one who can open the connection."
Sylvia let out a quiet breath she hadn't realized she was holding. If Ethan had full control over that ability, she was certain he would use it for nothing but mischief.
BANG!
The explosion shattered the air.
Sylvia jumped back on instinct, eyes sweeping the room. Dust and small fragments of stone rained down as the ceiling trembled violently.
The spot where Ethan had been standing seconds earlier was now a crater in the floor.
"…Looks like I've found my specialty," Ethan said.
He was gripping a cracked beam near the ceiling, hanging effortlessly with one hand.
Sylvia stared at the destruction below, then at him.
'Super strength? Telepathy might've been less destructive.'
Still, there was no denying the advantage. In a world overrun by khaerix, any edge meant survival.
…
"There are three scout-level khaerix to your left and one warrior-level to your right," Sylvia reported calmly, eye pressed to her rifle scope. "The warrior is badly injured but still dangerous. The scouts are unharmed but weaker. Your call."
Ethan rolled his shoulders.
"The bigger one," he said. "Might as well warm up properly."
The faint mental link between them pulsed once before dimming slightly as he turned right and dashed forward.
The interior of the building shook violently beneath his feet. Cracks raced along the walls.
Without hesitation, Ethan jumped.
He shot upward more than a dozen meters just as the entire structure collapsed behind him in a thunderous crash.
"That's definitely unsafe," he muttered midair.
Twisting his body, he angled himself forward and descended toward the street.
He landed lightly on broken asphalt and looked ahead.
The road was nearly impassable—choked with debris, overturned vehicles, and jagged slabs of concrete.
'Not a problem.'
He sprinted forward and leapt, landing feet-first against the wall of a nearby building. The impact barely slowed him. Before gravity could pull him down, he pushed off and dashed sideways across the vertical surface.
At the edge, he jumped again, landing atop a tilted chunk of concrete in the middle of the road.
Wall. Debris. Wreckage. He moved across them like stepping stones, covering distance in seconds.
Within minutes, he spotted his target.
The warrior-class khaerix stood in the open intersection.
It looked like a grotesque fusion of a cow and a dog—massive frame, distorted limbs, and elongated jaws lined with uneven teeth. Its hide was thick and uneven, darkened with grime and blood.
At its side was a deep, gaping wound. Bright green blood flowed steadily from it, dripping onto the cracked pavement and sizzling faintly.
"I'm going in," Ethan whispered.
He tightened his grip on his weapon—a compact but sturdy combat dagger they had scavenged earlier. They had also found a gun with multiple ammunition types, but Sylvia handled that.
'It's definitely not because my aim is terrible,' he told himself firmly.
He inhaled slowly.
Exhaled.
Everything narrowed.
The khaerix shifted its gaze away from his hiding position.
'Now.'
Ethan launched forward, dagger raised. His muscles coiled and released like springs, propelling him straight toward the creature's wounded flank.
"Like I thought," a voice said calmly beside him, "there was someone nearby."
A chill ran down Ethan's spine.
He twisted mid-leap, forcibly redirecting himself and slamming down onto the pavement instead of striking.
Spinning toward the source, he steadied his stance.
"Nice to meet you," the stranger continued evenly. "For starters, I'm not an enemy."