The river eventually grew calmer, its current slowing as the forest thickened on either side. Kazou and Natalie swam in silence, keeping low beneath the overhanging branches, the water biting their skin and turning their limbs stiff with cold. Their breath came in tight gasps now, not from panic, but from sheer exhaustion.

  After what felt like hours — but was maybe just twenty minutes — Kazou spotted a break in the trees.

  “Over there,” he whispered, voice hoarse from the cold.

  Natalie nodded, her teeth chattering. “Yeah… I see it…”

  They paddled to shore, dragging themselves up the muddy bank on all fours. Water streamed from their soaked clothes and hair. Natalie collapsed briefly onto her back, staring up at the sky. Kazou, still gasping, looked over the hill that rose just beyond the treeline.

  A squat, rusted structure stood half-hidden in the underbrush — a shed or outpost, metal-roofed, one of the many old wartime relics littering the Polish countryside. A window had been broken long ago. Its single wooden door leaned half open, creaking slightly in the wind.

  “Come on,” Kazou said, helping Natalie up.

  They stumbled toward the shed together, their clothes heavy with riverwater, shoes squelching.

  Inside, the air was dry and dust-choked, but not as cold. The floor was concrete, scattered with old leaves and forgotten tools. A set of shelves lined one side of the wall, filled with mildewed boxes, a rusted lantern, and — to Kazou’s surprise — a neatly folded blanket sealed in plastic, likely military surplus.

  Natalie sank down in the corner, wrapping her arms around her knees. Her face was pale, lips nearly blue. Kazou tore the plastic open and shook the blanket free.

  “Here,” he said gently, draping it over her shoulders.

  She blinked up at him, surprised. “Thanks…”

  “You're freezing,” he said.

  “You too,” she replied.

  “I’m fine.”

  She gave a tired smile and pulled the blanket tighter around herself, huddling in it like a cocoon. “So… what now?”

  Kazou sat next to her, leaning against the cold wall. “We wait. Rest. We’ll move again at dawn. The castle won’t search too far in the woods until morning. Maybe they think we drowned.”

  Natalie looked down. “Maybe.”

  There was a pause.

  Then she glanced up at him, quiet, vulnerable. “Hey…”

  Kazou turned toward her.

  “This is my fault,” she said. Her voice cracked a little. “If I had just ignored the letters, or that damn address… If I weren't so impulsively stupid... none of this would’ve happened. You wouldn’t be here. You wouldn’t have been hurt. You're a scientist, aren't you? You had a life! You wouldn’t be—” Her voice hitched. “—in this mess with me.”

  Kazou stared at her for a long moment. Then he shook his head slowly.

  “You didn’t drag me into anything, Natalie. I chose to follow the trail. Just like you. We both have questions. We both want answers. Let me tell you... I actually met Casimir. He killed a man in front of my eyes. The police didn't believe me. That's why I'm in Poland. I am here to prove the existence of a demon."

  FLASH.

  “The demon said the world would end soon…”

  A boy’s voice. Too soft. Too calm.

  This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

  FLASH.

  Dr. Fujino’s papers—on the floor, crinkled, soaked in blood.

  FLASH.

  “You and I… we’re the only ones who will witness it.”

  The gun on the floor. The child’s voice, smiling.

  “Pick it up, Nine.”

  FLASH.

  Her own trembling fingers closing around cold metal.

  FLASH

  Natalie inhaled sharply—too loud, too sudden. She pulled the blanket tighter around her, trying to hide the shake in her arms.

  Kazou turned to her, his brow furrowing.

  “Natalie?”

  She didn’t answer. She pressed her forehead to her knees, her breath shallow. Natalie pulled the blanket tighter around her, as if she could fold herself inside it. Her eyes stared into the distance.

  

  Kazou gasped, his hands instinctively reaching for Natalie's shoulder. "Natalie! Are you okay?"

  Natalie gave a bitter smile, looking up. “What does he even want from me? Why does he keep calling me Sasha?”

  Kazou didn’t answer.

  He didn’t have one.

  The silence that followed was quieter now, less tense. Only the wind pressed against the rusted walls.

  Natalie pulled the blanket tighter and scooted closer to Kazou. Their arms barely touched. Then her head — almost without thinking — leaned gently onto his shoulder.

  Kazou stiffened slightly, eyes widening. She was still damp, her hair trailing cold drops onto his coat. But she was warm and breathing steadily. Her face was soft with sleep already creeping in.

  “Sorry,” she mumbled. “Just tired.”

  Kazou swallowed. “It’s okay.”

  A moment passed.

  She didn’t move.

  Her eyes fluttered shut.

  She was asleep within a minute.

  Kazou sat still for a long time, unsure of what to do, unsure if he should move, speak, or let her rest. Finally, with an awkward exhale, he raised a hand and gently patted the top of her head.

  “You did good,” he whispered. “We made it out.”

  Natalie murmured something unintelligible in her sleep.

  "You really remind me of someone... Someone from years ago..." Kazou whispered.

  A photo of Experiment Nine abruptly appeared in his head.

  Kazou smiled faintly, eyes soft. Then he leaned his head back against the cold metal wall, still and quiet, as the wind whispered through the trees outside and the old shed stood guard over the two of them for the night.

  ***

  A dim haze filtered through the gaps in the wooden slats above them. Morning light, pale and grey, lit up the dust in the air. The shed had no windows, but the cold had lessened slightly. The scent of wet earth and water clung to everything.

  Natalie stirred first.

  She blinked slowly, groggy and stiff, still wrapped in the old blanket Kazou had found. Her head rested against his shoulder.

  Kazou sat beside her, upright but slouched, breathing steadily, arms crossed. He’d stayed awake through the night.

  “You didn’t sleep?” Natalie asked, voice still raspy from sleep.

  Kazou gave a small smile without looking at her. “I tried.”

  She sat up straighter, rubbing her arms for warmth. “You should have woken me.”

  “You needed it more,” he said simply.

  The silence that followed was still — the kind that settles after a storm, but before anything blooms.

  Natalie looked down at the blanket still around her knees. “Thank you.”

  Kazou shifted to stretch his legs out, joints creaking.

  “We're far enough from the castle,” he murmured. “But they’ll start looking. If they haven’t already.”

  Natalie nodded slowly.

  A bird chirped outside. It sounded far away — unreal in its cheerfulness.

  “I’m sorry,” she said, almost in a whisper.

  Kazou looked at her again.

  She didn’t stop. “I’m sorry for all of it. For dragging you into this. If I just… If I hadn’t opened those letters. If I hadn’t gone to that address. If I hadn’t gotten into that damn taxi… You wouldn’t be here.”

  Kazou watched her quietly. She wasn’t crying, but she looked like she had hours ago. Hollow. Heavy.

  “I brought this on us,” she said, hugging her knees. “And for what? Because I thought I could find the truth in some old building in the Polish countryside? Because I thought a name in a letter meant something?”

  Kazou’s voice came gently.

  “You didn’t drag me. I followed.”

  “But you shouldn’t have had to—”

  “I would’ve anyway,” he cut in. “You think I got into that car by accident? Warsaw was just another stop. Until it wasn’t.”

  Natalie looked at him, not understanding.

  He added softly, “I was already on his scent, Natalie. Casimir. Before I even knew your name.”

  The words made her chest feel tight. Like she’d been holding in something for too long — and still couldn’t let it out.

  Kazou reached toward the rusted shelves in the shed and grabbed a second blanket, shaking it free of dust. He handed it to her.

  She took it, pulled it close again.

  “I meant what I said last night,” he added. “You and I… We’re after the same thing. You want the truth. I want proof. And I think they’re the same damn thing.”

  Natalie smiled faintly.

  It felt real. Small, but real.

  Kazou stood, stretching again.

  “We should move before anyone comes sniffing around.”

  Natalie nodded and slowly got to her feet. Her legs ached from the cold and the stone floor. As she adjusted the blanket.

  “Where do we go?” she asked.

  Kazou looked at the distant sky, pale and overcast.

  “Anywhere with people,” he said. “A phone. Food. Clothes that aren’t soaked in blood and river water.”

  Natalie snorted. “Good start.”