An eight-year-old boy ran frantically through the crowded street, his breath uneven and his small feet struggling to keep pace with his fear. He wore a simple T-shirt and shorts, his dark-brown eyes wide with panic. His messy, layered hair fell over his forehead as he glanced back again and again.
At that moment, a man stepped out from a subway entrance. He was about twenty-five, dressed neatly in a coat and suit, his wavy black hair slightly tousled. A briefcase hung from his hand.
Before either of them could react—
Crash.
The boy slammed into him.
The man staggered slightly but steadied himself. The boy looked up at him, terrified.
"Sorry… sorry…" he stammered.
He turned to run again, but the man gently caught his arm.
"Hey… what happened?" the man asked calmly. "Why are you running?"
The boy hesitated, then spoke in a trembling voice.
"I'm… running away from my stepmom."
The man's expression softened.
"What did she do?"
The boy looked down, his voice breaking.
"She hits me for no reason… and treats me like a slave. I can't handle it anymore."
The man paused, then asked carefully,
"Doesn't your father do anything?"
"My dad… died a year ago," the boy said quietly.
"She's my only guardian now. But I can't live like that."
The man sighed softly.
"Are you a single child?"
"No… she has her own son."
There was a brief silence.
"What's your name?" the man asked.
"I'm Alex Carter."
"That's a good name," the man said with a small smile.
"Where do you live?"
"Zenith Pulse Street… second apartment… room number 20."
For a split second, the man's expression changed—something unreadable, almost like recognition or concern.
"I see…" he murmured. "Can I come talk to her?"
The boy immediately shook his head.
"No… I don't want to go back there."
"Don't worry," the man said gently.
"I'll be with you."
After a moment of hesitation, the boy nodded.
They walked together to Zenith Pulse Street. The boy's steps slowed as they approached the apartment. Fear returned to his eyes.
They stopped at the door.
The man knocked.
A woman opened it, her face quickly shifting from confusion to anger as she saw the boy.
"Where were you all this time?!" she shouted.
"Please don't yell at him," the man said firmly. "He's just a child."
She narrowed her eyes.
"Who are you? This is our family matter. Stay out of it."
"But you're not treating him like family," the man replied calmly. "You're treating him like a slave."
She froze for a moment, then scoffed.
"Did he ask you for help?"
The boy instinctively moved closer behind the man.
"He didn't need to," the man said.
"I brought him here… because I have something to discuss."
"What is it?" she asked suspiciously.
"That's private."
"Then leave the boy and go."
The man's expression hardened.
"Do you really think he'll stay with you after all this?"
She didn't answer.
"I'm taking him with me," the man said.
"That's not possible," she snapped.
"Why not? You don't treat him like a son. So what difference does it make?"
She smirked slightly.
"Fine… but I want money."
The man let out a short, humorless laugh.
"You're asking money… for a child?"
"He's my son," she replied coldly.
"I haven't seen much of that," the man said.
"Pay me," she said bluntly. "Or leave him here."
There was a pause.
"…How much?"
"100,000 Zenthra."
The man frowned. "That's a huge amount."
"That shouldn't be a problem for someone like you," she said.
"I don't need praise from you," he replied flatly. "But fine."
He took out his phone and made a call.
Minutes later, a sleek car pulled up. A masked man stepped out, carrying a suitcase. He handed it over without a word.
The man walked to the woman and placed the suitcase in her hands.
"Take it. I'm taking him."
She opened it slightly, her eyes gleaming at the sight inside.
The boy, meanwhile, felt something he hadn't felt in a long time
Relief.
They got into the car and drove away.
After a while, the boy looked at him.
"Where are we going…? Why are you helping me?"
The man looked ahead, then smiled faintly.
"I was once a child like you," he said.
"I know how it feels."
The boy stayed silent, listening.
"I'm taking you somewhere you can finally be happy."
The boy nodded slowly, comfort beginning to replace fear.
Then he asked softly,
"I forgot to ask… what's your name? And what do you do?"
The man turned toward him, a mysterious smile forming on his face.
"I'm Ethan Vale. I'm doing a secret job."
The boy blinked.
"What secret?"
Ethan kept his eyes on the road, a faint smile on his lips.
"A secret is always a secret."
The boy frowned slightly, then crossed his arms.
"That's not a real answer."
Ethan chuckled softly.
"You're smart. That's good. But some things… you'll understand later."
The city lights slowly faded behind them as the car moved toward a quieter, darker road. Tall trees lined both sides, their shadows stretching across the path.
"Are you… a police officer?" the boy asked.
"No."
"A spy?"
Ethan raised an eyebrow.
"What makes you think that?"
"You talk like one."
Ethan laughed this time, a little louder.
"Maybe I just like talking mysteriously."
The boy looked out the window, then back at him.
"Are you a good person?"
For a moment, Ethan didn't answer.
Then he said quietly,
"I try to be."
The road became rough, leading into a forest. The car's headlights cut through the darkness.
"Where are we going?" the boy asked again, a hint of nervousness returning.
"Somewhere safe," Ethan replied.
Ahead, a mountain appeared, and at its base—an enormous cave.
The boy's eyes widened.
"We're going in there?"
Ethan nodded.
"Don't worry."
As the car approached, something unusual happened. A faint blue glow shimmered at the cave's entrance, like an invisible barrier.
The boy leaned forward.
"What is that?"
Ethan tapped something on the dashboard.
"Just hold on."
The car didn't slow down.
Instead, it drove straight into the glowing entrance.
For a split second, everything turned white.
Then
They vanished.