Morning arrived slowly.
A pale sun rose above the distant hills, its weak light pushing through the thick fog that covered the ruined village. The light revealed what the night had hidden—broken rooftops, collapsed fences, and doors hanging crookedly from splintered frames. Smoke still drifted from a few dying fires, and ash moved quietly across the empty streets.
The village looked worse in daylight.
Edward stood at the edge of the road, his wooden sword hanging loosely in his hand. The blade was chipped from the fight during the night, and his arms still ached from the desperate struggle. His body was tired, but his mind refused to rest.
Every time he blinked, he saw the monster again.
Its twisted shape in the darkness.
Its glowing eyes watching him.
Edward tightened his grip on the sword until his knuckles turned pale.
He had survived.
But the village hadn't.
The wind moved slowly through the broken houses, carrying dust and ash along the ground. The same streets where children once ran and villagers once talked now lay silent.
Too silent.
Edward began walking slowly through the village.
His boots scraped softly against the dirt road as he passed the houses he had known since childhood. He remembered running through these same streets years ago, chasing friends between the buildings while the villagers shouted at them to slow down.
Now the houses stood empty.
Some had collapsed completely.
Others looked like hollow shells.
Edward stopped near the village square. The old stone well still stood in the center, though one side had cracked. Nearby, a wooden cart lay on its side, its broken wheel half buried in the dirt.
Everything felt smaller than he remembered.
Or maybe the world had simply become larger.
"Eddy…"
The voice came from behind him.
Edward turned immediately.
The village elder stood several steps away, leaning on his worn wooden staff. His cloak moved slightly in the cold morning wind as his calm eyes rested on the boy.
Edward lowered his head a little.
Not many people still called him Eddy.
His mother had.
Before the sickness came.
Before the air itself began to feel wrong.
At first, it had only been a few villagers coughing. Nothing serious, people said. But the coughing spread quickly. The air became heavy and bitter, and people started growing weaker.
Some believed it came from the lands beyond the hills, where monsters had started appearing after the Ruins showed up.
Others believed it was just bad luck.
Edward didn't know which was true.
He only knew what he had seen.
His mother had always been strong. She used to wake before sunrise every morning, cooking while sunlight entered through the small window of their home. The smell of herbs and bread would fill the room while she worked near the hearth.
Even when the sickness began weakening her, she tried to hide it.
She smiled often.
But the sickness didn't stop.
Each day her breathing became more difficult.
Each night the coughing grew worse.
Edward remembered sitting beside her bed, holding her hand while she struggled to breathe. He remembered waiting for the moment when she would get better.
But she never did.
She didn't die fighting monsters.
She didn't die protecting the village.
She simply grew weaker… until one day she stopped breathing.
Edward closed his eyes for a moment before opening them again.
The memory faded, leaving only the cold morning behind.
The elder had moved closer.
For a while, the old man said nothing. His gaze slowly moved across the ruined village, as if he had already accepted what had happened here.
Then he placed a hand on Edward's shoulder.
The touch was steady.
"Live, Eddy," the elder said quietly.
"The world hasn't taken you yet."
Edward didn't answer.
Instead, he looked across the village one last time.
Broken houses.
Empty streets.
The place where his childhood had once existed.
Now it looked like every ruined settlement people spoke about in fearful whispers.
Edward tightened his grip on the wooden sword his father had left him.
Slowly, he turned toward the road leading out of the village.
The fog was thicker there, hiding the lands beyond.
Somewhere past that fog, the world continued.
Dangerous.
Unknown.
Edward took a slow breath.
If this world had become a place where only the strong survived…
Then he would become strong enough to live in it.