Chapter 24: A stuffed bunny in the ruins
Mikel perched on a broken pile of rubble beside his ghost neighbor, Arthur. Surrounded by the ruins, the smoke remnants of last night's chaos, and the eerie silence of the once poor yet lively neighborhood.
Both of them watched the little girl playing in the middle of the ruins, her stuffed bunny dangling from her small grip. She looked lively—if not for the torn side of her body.
"I came back for her," Arthur sighed, his bitter smile deepening as he watched his daughter. "But everything happened so fast. The ceiling gave way before I even realized it. I couldn't save her... or myself."
Mikel cast the man a sidelong glance. His fingertip trembled slightly, and he clenched his hand to steady it. He looked away, huffing sharply—the only release he could manage for the pressure building in his chest.
[It is not your fault, Master.]
He glanced at the message but chose to look away.
A part of him wanted to blame himself for the deaths of these people. They weren't just random passersby. They were his neighbors—people he had known. Mikel should've realized that, especially after seeing familiar faces last night at the evacuation center. But he'd chosen to ignore it.
Only now did he understand that even if he tried to forget, life had its way of reminding him—again and again—of every action and its aftermath. Life would not let him forget, and the consequences weren't always kind... not in this world.
"Sorry," he whispered, casting the man a quick glance.
The man smiled gently, the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes deepening. "It's not your fault."
Mikel scoffed. That was what everyone said, but...