The night was as dark as it should be.

Twilight was always silent... but tonight felt emptier than usual. Even the wind seemed sworn to silence; only occasionally slipping through the crumbled walls, carrying whispers of the past along with dust. Wherever I am, it never feels like I’m truly part of this decaying world — it feels like I am the decay. Like the earth, like rust, like silence itself... I am Twilight.

While the lights of Sunrise pierce the sky like shards, watching their sterile, artificial wealth from here... it fills me with both anger and exhaustion too deep to feel anger at all.

In this place, those who make noise lose. And I have never been one to make noise.

Here, people either die or forget. I chose to forget. A childhood with forgotten names, faces of the dead I no longer recall... Their memory only sharpened my hands. I do not mourn, I sharpen knives.

But that night, something slipped through the silence.

A sound. Muffled, urgent... was it a fight?

I turned my head. It came from a few blocks away — a spot I normally consider my “safe zone,” where no one dares approach. The voices were loud but chaotic. I pulled back my steps. Before moving, I listened carefully. Twilight always reveals how “foreign” a sound is. This... was unfamiliar.

Without a word, I pressed my body against a low ruin. My palm reflexively checked my knife belt. The cold metal’s presence was the only constant. I held my breath and moved slowly.

Hidden in the body of the night, I slipped between broken walls. The sounds grew clearer now.

There was someone breathing heavily. A fragile will trying to silence the weak sounds of fists hitting flesh... Soon, I leaned slightly through a shattered window.

A weak body... a torn shirt, a ragged jacket... bloodied but still trying to stand. Madness. Nothing could come of that frame and determination. Yet, it kept fighting.

My eyes narrowed without needing to squint.

I had never seen this boy before. But I didn’t need to. Because in this faithless life, anyone who’s stubborn catches my interest.

I didn’t move yet. But I didn’t look away.