Hedi set both hands on Selina’s shoulders, like a street puppeteer steering a doll, pushing her forward while the guard drifted behind like a shadow.

“I still think this is wrong.” Her voice was a thin reed trembling in a breeze.

Selina barely turned her face when Hedi’s finger pressed it back, neat as a bookmark slipped into place.

“Let him play hero once—what’s the harm?” Her words landed like a tossed coin on a stage.

“Professor! Are you truly clueless, or just playing dumb?” The rebuke snapped like a whip in a courtyard.

“It’s fine. Once you tell the Institute what’s here, they’ll send help—a tide that’ll carry the guard out.” My reassurance rose like calm water.

“No one knows how long that takes.” Doubt pooled like fog around her ankles.

“You saw the people at the gate. They only want out. He can duck and hide for a while, like a fish in reeds.”

“Really?”

“Mm-hm.”

I felt her shoulders tremble, like sparrows trapped under cloth, so I rubbed them to smooth the feathers.

She was locked in a fierce inner clash, thunder inside a small bowl. The guard’s life or death was a tossed seed—but once I knew he was mutating, the harvest looked the same.

“Fine!” Selina turned back, checked her wording like a stitch, and told the guard at the end, firm and soft, “Even if they put me in solitary, I’ll make them save you.”

He was silent, then pushed a “Thanks” through his teeth like grit between stones.

I set Selina’s head straight and nudged her onward. Knowing he was turning into a monster made many things click: he never helped carry Selina, he lived in armor, and when the residents wailed, his face twisted with pain—I’d thought he was winded.

“When did the residents start changing?” I cast the question toward the guard, slow as a fishing line.

“Why bring that up now?” His reply drifted like a cool draft.

“What else would we talk about? You? What’s there to talk about?” My tone tapped like a spoon on porcelain.

“Ah…” He got it. “After that woman opened the Dark Realm, mutations kept happening, wave after wave.”

“How long?”

“About a year and a half since it opened.” His answer sat like a dull stone.

“Can clothes block it?” My doubt fluttered like a moth.

“They only slow the growth. Cloth’s too thin. You need harder stuff—bark, shell, steel.” His words clinked like nails in a tin.

I glanced at his armor. “The more the mutation, the easier the Dark Realm amplifies emotions?” The thought swelled like a drum under skin.

“Not sure.” His shrug was a leaf slipping off a branch.

“Mm… you weren’t in Shattered City, then?”

“Why ask?”

“Because you’re not infected.” I set the conclusion down like a chess piece.

“Ah, right. I was outside in armor, driving off beasts.” His memory trotted like a pack horse.

I patted Selina’s head. “If infection came piece by piece, are we at risk?” The question rose like smoke.

“When the Dark Realm is forced open, it bursts with an energy wave,” Selina said, then let out a breath like a tire easing. “The Shattered City gate’s built of black wall, etched with magic runes, so the wave only spread inward. You choosing to chase beasts then was wise.”

She waved lightly. “No disrespect to anyone else.” Her hand skimmed air like a gull.

“I know what you mean.” I pressed her shoulder, keeping her steady as a stake.

“I feel like a shield.” Her smile was thin as rice paper.

“Once we get out, I’ll pin a Best Shield medal on you.” I kept it light, like sunshine over a blade, because I didn’t want her too close to the guard.

Usually the mage walks point, the guard with a gun watches the rear, and the noncombatant stays safe between. That’s the drill, square as a brick path.

But I stayed wary of a guard sprouting tentacles, like vines under armor.

We moved on. A childhood scene flickered back—other kids playing train, lining up to chug along. I’d wanted to try, but lack of friends shut the station. Maybe it was caution from being reborn female while keeping male memories, a knot you don’t parade. As we grew, that game got stamped “childish.” Now I could only “play train” by keeping Selina and the guard apart.

No giggling came of it. Most of my attention snagged on houses sliding past like charcoal sketches, and the smashing at the gate like surf on stone.

After a stretch, I pressed Selina’s shoulders and forced a halt, palms heavy as anchors.

“What is it?” Her nerves buzzed like a wire.

I listened and watched the guard. He felt it too—a change as clear as a cut. The gate stopped its thud-thud under assault, drums of war suddenly mute.

The residents folded their banners and doused their drums. Only wind, remembering by fits, stirred the curtains trailing from the houses.

“Keep moving. Stopping here’s useless.” The guard broke the hush, his cold tone a lone cloud floating over the lane.

I smoothed my hair, then stepped beside Selina, and followed as the guard shifted from tail to lead, a wolf taking point.

“So quiet,” Selina said at last, her words a late bell.

“Probably tired.” I shot her a helpless look, pale as chalk.

“Hard to imagine that crowd getting tired.”

“The black wall’s too tough for farm tools.” I ran my fingers along the right-hand wall, felt the rough like sand biting skin. “They may be hunting another way out.”

“If they choose the same destination as ours, we’re in trouble.” Her concern crept like ivy.

“If they find the stair, it’s only there.” I set the fact down like a stake.

“What do we do then?”

“Like I said at the outpost—we fight our way out.” My voice carried like steel under silk.

The guard halted, turned with a hint of ire, a spark under ash. “We took this long loop to dodge residents, and you two still act like you’re on a stroll.”

“Do we have to wail to please you?” I shot back, flint to flint. “Moments like this need calm. Panic fixes nothing.”

“Yeah. You’re right.” His agreement fell like a flat stone.

I walked, loosened my hair, and hooked the strands at my cheeks with my pinky, a small ritual like folding a fan.

On both sides sat houses with black eaves, identical faces in a row. Silver sun-proof curtains drooped over windows like heavy eyelids. Silence pooled; no figures anywhere. Copy-paste homes ran on like a printed street.

Bang!

The guard’s sudden shot jolted me, a bolt through dry wood. I snapped my eyes forward. A hideous man sprawled in the middle of the road like a toppled idol.

His body was bloated, his face rough with lumps, a twisted bruised scar dragging along his lips.

His cracked lips peeled open, showing green, moss-like rotten teeth that made the air curdle.

I frowned, stomach tightening like a knotted rope. “I thought everyone went to the gate.”

“He’s too fat. The tentacles or whatever couldn’t push out. He can’t move like the others.” The guard’s explanation clacked like stones.

He fired again. The deafening crack shattered the lane. The man’s head burst; brain and blood splashed the walls, and stench rolled out like a sewer tide.

Selina shrank and buried her head in my shoulder, a dove under wing. I shivered, drew a long breath to steady my nerves, but pulled in cold air laced with metallic gore that flipped my gut.

“Keep moving. Staying here hurts us.” The guard’s words marched like boots.

I covered my mouth and choked down the urge to vomit, a wave breaking on teeth. “Give me a moment.”

“Not puking is already good.”

“Easy for you to say. You’re used to this. I’m not!” My protest sparked like hot sand.

“Fair. You’re a Professor at a noble academy.” He eyed pale Selina, puzzled. “And an Investigator gets like this too? Rumor says the Dark Realm’s full of severed limbs.”

Selina leaned on my shoulder and shook her head. “One true line out of ten would be a blessing.” Her voice settled like dust.

“Fine. Get yourselves used to it.” He stepped over the fat man like crossing a log. “Move. We can’t stay.”

I took Selina’s hand. We edged past the corpse and kept toward the end of the lane, footsteps stitching the road.

No one spoke. Only the tap-tap of our soles, smooth as a stone pestle grinding a mortar, rolled along the street.

“I thought you weren’t scared,” the guard teased, light as flicked water. “But hey, you didn’t wail.”

“How was I supposed to know you’d— We saw a thigh at the gate. This time it was a head!” My words stumbled like loose tiles.

“You’ve seen enough to know how I treat monsters.” His stance stood like a post.

I said nothing and fixed on his back. He felt my gaze, adjusted his armor, seeking a fit like a shell around flesh.

“We’re almost there.” His promise floated like a lantern.

No one answered.

“Ha. Maybe not that soon.” The joke fell flat as wet paper.

Still no answer, but both Selina and I saw the residents blocking the mouth of the lane, a wall of bodies like stones set across a stream.