Back at the Sanctuary,
The crowd had not fully dispersed, even after hours.
Even after the dust from the earlier disturbance had settled.
Whispers still lingered in the air like smoke.
Many had remained intentionally, they wanted to see whether the boy would return, or whether the wasteland would swallow him whole.
The deal between the mutant father and the strange kid had spread quickly through the outer district.
Curiosity turned into mockery. Mockery turned into quiet malice.
Some hoped he would fail.
Some were certain he would.
"He won't come back, I bet 10 blood coins on it."
"He's too arrogant, talking about taking care of two abominations, like they were mere ants."
"He's just a kid who haven't even grown hair yet."
Low laughter followed with some making bets and others speaking with plain ridicule.
But even those with greedy and insidious intentions didn't dare to lay a hand on the fox girl, because standing nearby were two figures, releasing terrifying pressure the crowd did not want to offend.
Brant and Veronica.
They had remained in the same spot for what felt like ages.
Arms crossed, Silent and Watching.
Their presence alone was enough.
No one knew how strong they were. But based on the pressure released by the muscled man, they guessed he was a very Powerful mutant. No one wanted to stick his/her neck forward to test the waters with their lives.
And in the wasteland, ignorance toward strength could get you killed.
No one wanted to die over someone else's problems.
So the mutants kept their voices low, careful, measured and cautious.
Brant sighed lightly.
Even with his enhanced physique, boredom had begun to creep in.
Veronica, however, had grown tired of standing still.
Her gaze shifted toward the fox mutant girl.
The girl and her father remained near the edge of the gathering, separated slightly from others, not fully accepted, not fully rejected.
Veronica stepped forward.
The surrounding mutants immediately stiffened.
Then quietly scattered from her path.
No one wanted to suffer an attack over a misunderstanding.
The fox mutant father noticed her approach.
His face tightened instantly.
He stepped aside, lowering his head slightly, guilt and fear visible in his posture.
He avoided looking at his daughter.
Veronica stopped in front of the girl.
She studied her.
Then slowly bent down until they were eye level.
Up close, she was surprised.
The fox girl's clothes were worn and faded, not filthy, but clearly old. Her hair was unkempt but naturally soft, falling around delicate features. Beneath the subtle traces of mutation, the faint fur along her fox ears, the sharpness of her amber-tinted eyes, there was undeniable beauty and innocence.
With a bath, proper clothes, and nourishment, she would grow more coquettish and alluring.
Veronica's mind wandered briefly.
Is that what One saw?
Maybe that's the reason he was so resolute in helping her.
But she dismissed the thought almost immediately.
During their travels, they had encountered women far more conventionally beautiful.
One had never reacted, nor had he spoken up.
Never interfered in others sufferings.
So what made this girl different?
Veronica gently lifted the girl's chin with two fingers.
The fox girl tensed immediately.
Fear flickered across her face.
Her ears twitched slightly.
"W-What do you want…?" she stammered softly.
Veronica's voice was calm.
"What's your name?"
The question seemed to confuse her.
Why ask that?
After a moment of hesitation, she answered quietly.
"Anna."
The name felt foreign on her tongue.
Melancholy crossed her face.
She tried to remember the last time someone had called her that.
Not "coquettish fox" ,"little mutant" Nor "blood coin slave"
But just Anna.
Before the Pollution,
She had been a college student.
The top of her class.
She had returned home for the holidays to spend time with her parents.
She remembered the laughter in the kitchen. Her mother's voice. The warmth of the normal days.
Then the sky darkened.
The air thickened.
The Pollution descended like a slow-moving storm.
Her mother had begun to change first.
Twisting.
Convulsing.
Bones shifting unnaturally beneath skin while she screamed in pain and despair.
Her father had held her tightly.
Then he made a choice.
Before the mutation was fully completed,
He ended her suffering with shaky hands which later plummeted him into hollow emptiness. Especially when he recalled how he pierced the heart of his wife in despair.
During all these, Anna had not screamed nor raged.
She just wept in silence, hiding while holding her pet fox.
It was a small animal she had once rescued from an injured wildlife shelter.
It had been fragile, warm and alone.
As the Pollution began altering her own body, she felt it creeping through her veins, invasive, suffocating.
She knew she was not strong-willed enough to survive it alone.
She did not want to die and turn into a monster like her mother. She hugged her fox in fear.
She didn't want to abandon it, so she clutched it tightly.
And when the transformation came, it didn't destroy, but altered her.
The essence of the fox fused with her own.
Fur patterned skin, Heightened six senses. Hunting became almost instinct.
When she awoke,
Her mother was dead.
Her fox was dead.
But she felt its presence inside her. She couldn't describe the feeling. She just knew it was there.
She understood then.
It had given its life willingly.
Its essence had merged with hers to stabilize the mutation.
Without it, she would have become an abomination, or maybe something worse.
That realization had shattered her even more.
She cried for hours.
Not for herself, but for them(mother and pet).
Since then,
She had lived in fear with her weak father.
The world had collapsed, government structures crumbled, Military units fractured. Some soldiers mutated into protectors. Others into horrors.
Power corrupted others quickly.
The strong one forgot loyalty. Began preying on the weak.
Weak ones were preyed on and then discarded.
She had seen what happened to burdens.
They didn't live long, so she worked very hard not to become one.
Every time she had enough energy, she created blood coins.
Even when it drained or hurt her, she refused to become a useless burden to her father.
She refused to slow her father down.
Despite his guilt, silence and despair.
At least she could contribute.
And though life inside the Sanctuary was harsh, she was secretly grateful.
Because the one who ruled it kept worse horrors away.
Malcolm
The Heat Emperor.
Cruel, unfair, possessive but protective.
He saw everything within the Sanctuary as his property.
And he did not tolerate others damaging what belonged to him.
Many had tried then died.
Anna did not follow him in blind worship, she just understood the laws of survival here in the sanctuary.
Better controlled cruelty than chaotic annihilation.
Veronica studied her quietly.
She saw the intelligence behind her eyes.
The trauma, restraint and fear of being a burden.
Interesting.
Very interesting.
She slowly released Anna's chin.
Behind her, Brant shifted slightly, noticing the growing stillness of the crowd.
The Sanctuary waited.
Wondering if the boy would return.
And Anna,
For the first time in a long while,
Felt like someone had looked at her not as a resource…
But as a person.