As the others sleep, Kyle remains alert, his gaze scanning the dense fog that surrounds them.
The mist swirls lazily, thick and impenetrable, but silent.
Nothing moves inside it.
Just as he suspected, it acts as a protective barrier, keeping the dangers outside at bay.
He glances at the young assassin, who is lying still on the ground, pretending to be asleep. Kyle smirks.
'He's not fooling anyone.'
"Stop pretending. Sit up and talk."
Kyle says casually, not even looking at the kid.
For a moment, the assassin doesn't move. Then, realizing he's been caught, the boy sighs and sits up, his expression neutral.
"What do you want?"
The kid asks.
Kyle leans back against a broken wall.
"Tell me about the fog."
The assassin stays quiet, his lips pressed into a thin line. Kyle doesn't push him, letting the silence stretch between them.
The heavy atmosphere, mixed with exhaustion, seems to wear the boy down. Finally, he speaks.
