Chapter 11: An official encounter.
The space around them was endless, a blank white void stretching in all directions. There was nothing—no walls, no sky, no signs of life. Just two figures sitting at a table, their presence the only thing grounding reality in this strange place.
Conrad sat across from the boy, studying him carefully. His clothes were torn, barely covering his body. Dried blood crusted his skin, his frame trembling with exhaustion.
Yet, despite it all, he was still here. Still fighting.
Conrad leaned forward, fingers interlocked. His voice was calm, curious.
"Why do you keep fighting to live?"
The boy blinked, the question hanging between them.
"Because... I believe," he answered simply.
"In what?"
"You don’t look like someone with a reason to keep going."
The boy inhaled deeply, holding Conrad’s gaze. "I may not look like it," he admitted, "but I do want to live."
"Even in your condition?"
"No," the boy confessed, his voice barely above a whisper. "Not like this. But I’ll try... If you were in my position, would you want to die?"