Pale morning light seeped through the curtains, spreading gray threads across the wall opposite the bed. Arya woke to a sound that wasn't as sinister as a monster's—but it was enough to send adrenaline surging through her veins again.13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡdmMXlO4R49
Then—
Knock.
Faint. But clear.
Arya froze.
Knock... knock...
She opened her eyes slowly.
For a brief moment, she didn't move. Her body was heavy with exhaustion, every muscle resisting the urge to wake. She stared at the ceiling in silence, trying to grasp where she was.
The ceiling was coated with a thin layer of dust, barely visible in the gray light filtering through the curtain. A fine line of light cut slowly across the room, like a dull blade slicing through the dark.
Arya watched it in silence. Dust particles floated inside the beam... drifting with impossible slowness. As if the whole world had slowed down.
She swallowed. How long has it been...? The thought moved through her mind, sluggish. She tried to pull back what had happened the night before.
The sound of bone breaking.
The Shadow.
Maryam's last scream.
Her hand tightened slightly on the sheet. No. She shut her eyes for a moment. No use dwelling on it now. This new world didn't grant time for grief. Either you adapted... or you died.
Arya let out a slow breath, then sat up on the edge of the bed. The moment she moved, a spike of pain stabbed through her injured shoulder. She gritted her teeth.
It still hurts...
She muttered it, moving her arm with caution. The pain wasn't as sharp as the night before, but it was a clear reminder that what had happened had been no dream.
She looked around.
The room was exactly as she'd left it before sleep. The door still barricaded by the heavy table. The wardrobe still pressed tight against the window.
Everything in its place.
That alone was enough to give her a fragile sense of reassurance.
Her fingers moved slowly to touch the table beside the bed. She picked up the Core Shard she had left there before sleeping. She turned it over in her fingers. A faint tremor ran through her hand, as if the remnants of the monster's energy were still pulsing inside it. She set it back down. She wasn't ready to test it yet—not until she understood what might happen.
Then the cold blue light of her system flared, a new message shimmering in the air before her.
---
[Shadow restoration 100% complete.]
[Physical condition: Stable.]
---
She froze for a second. Then a small tremor of disbelief ran through her.
Everything was back. The way it had been before the battle. A calm settled over her—but mixed with sharp alertness.
She opened her Status Board, reading each number with care.
Strength. Health. Spirit. All of it—back to maximum. Even the Shadow had returned to full strength.
A faint smile tugged at her lips. A small shiver passed through her.
So... everything's back. She whispered it to herself, as if speaking to a friend. Even the exhaustion... just a memory now. Her mind began to turn. Did it happen because I slept? If so... rest and sleep play a real role in recovery. Maybe the best role there is.
She rose slowly, the cold biting at her bare feet. She moved with light, tentative steps toward the door, but before she could head downstairs, she stopped.
Her body was still stiff from broken sleep. Her face still carried the weight of exhaustion. She sighed quietly and turned first toward the bathroom—to wash her face with water, to wake herself up before she opened that door.
She turned the tap.
Nothing.
She waited a moment, then twisted it further.
A hiss... then silence. Brown droplets sputtered out, followed by a gasp of air from the pipes. Then everything stopped.
Not a single drop.
She furrowed her brow.
It's out...?
Then she remembered. The system window from the day before. She glanced at the panel. The countdown was still ticking—second by second.
Her hand stayed on the faucet for a long moment. The bathroom was drowned in pale gray light filtering through the small window high on the wall. The light wasn't strong—just enough to expose the dust hanging in the air. Tiny particles, drifting slowly. As if the air itself had grown heavier.
She breathed in.
The air was cold. The smell of old pipes clung to it.
She pulled her hand from the faucet. The scrape of metal was sharp in the silence.
Arya closed her eyes for a moment, feeling the weight of this new world. Everything was disintegrating, piece by piece. Every second that passed was dragging her closer to chaos beyond her control.
Knock.
The sound came again from downstairs.
This time, slightly louder.
She exhaled slowly, then wiped her face with the water still pooled in the basin. She pulled on her clothes, the realization settling deeper: every moment mattered now.
Every step was careful.
When she reached the front door, she didn't open it right away. She pressed her eye to the peephole... and looked.
The street was gray under the morning light. Cars sat parked exactly where their owners had left them. Some doors hung open. One still had its hood raised, as if the owner had been fixing it before they vanished. The air was still. A few old newspapers slid slowly across the asphalt, dragged by a faint, invisible breeze.
Her eyes swept the scene. Sidewalks. Windows. Cars.
If it's a trap... The thought flared instantly. If it were a monster...
A monster wouldn't knock.
Monsters slammed. Clawed. Shattered.
But knocking... knocking was human.
She lifted her gaze to the man behind the door.
Her eyes widened slightly. She breathed out, slow. Then whispered, "...Uncle Jad?"
She stood behind the door a moment, hesitating.
The man outside was in his forties. His shoulders were slightly hunched, his features deeply tired. Unshaven. His eyes were bloodshot, as if he hadn't slept in a long time.
But she knew him well.
Jad.
Their neighbor, the man who had always greeted her with a warm smile. The man who had always treated her... as if she were his own daughter.
Arya opened the door slowly.
"Uncle Jad..."
The man lifted his head when he saw her, and it was like a weight dropped from his chest.
"Arya... thank God."
He exhaled with open relief, his eyes scanning her quickly, checking that she was unhurt.
"I was worried about you... and Maryam."
Arya went still.
His eyes settled on her face.
"You're both okay, right?"
She didn't answer right away. She lowered her gaze slightly. Something heavy pressed down inside her chest.
"...Maryam."
Her voice faltered.
Then, quiet and tired, she said, "She turned."
Silence.
He didn't ask how. He didn't ask when.
Jad shut his eyes for a brief moment, as if that single word had been enough to make him understand everything. When he opened them again... there was no shock in them. Only a deep, quiet grief.
"I understand."
He sighed, slow and heavy, and wiped his face with a rough hand. Then he spoke, his voice low and hoarse from exhaustion.
"My wife... Nareen..."
The words caught in his throat. "...didn't turn like you."
Arya raised her head slowly. Jad drew a deep breath, as if he had to force himself back through that moment.
"She turned... right in front of me."
---
A short silence hung between them. Then he began to speak.
His eyes stayed on the ground, as if the memory was too heavy to tell with his head raised.
---
Dawn had barely broken. Pale gray light slipped through the living room window, spreading long shadows across the floor.
Jad stood in the middle of the room.
Nareen was in front of him. But something was wrong. Her hand was pressed against her throat, dark blood seeping between her fingers. Near the window, on the floor... small traces of blood leading outside. The window was open.
He remembered what had happened minutes before.
The rabbit.
The small rabbit Nareen had raised with love for years. It wasn't that gentle creature anymore. It had gone wild without warning. Its teeth—elongated, unnatural—had sunk into her neck, near the vein.
Then it had fled through the window before Jad even understood what was happening.
He stepped closer.
"Nareen..."
His voice trembled.
She was pale—a pallor he had never seen before. She tried to press the wound with a shaking hand, but the blood kept seeping through her fingers, unstoppable.
He dropped to his knees in front of her, fast. "Hold on... we'll stop the bleeding."
But even as he said it, he knew. The blood was too much. More than anyone could stop.
Nareen lifted her eyes to him. It took effort. As if every movement cost her what little strength she had left.
"...Jad."
Her voice was broken.
He reached out and gripped her shoulder, as if that alone could keep her here.
"I'm here."
She smiled—a weak, fragile smile. Then she spoke, her voice barely a whisper.
"Take care... of our son."
She paused, drawing a shuddering breath.
"...Alex."
Jad swallowed hard. He squeezed her hand.
But she forced herself to continue.
"...Don't leave him... alone."
Her hand slipped slowly from the wound.
And she fell.
Life drifted from her eyes—quiet, devastating.
Jad stayed there. On his knees.
Holding her body.
The room was silent. Except for the sound of his own heavy breathing.
A minute passed.
Then another.
He didn't move. He couldn't.
Then—
Her fingers twitched.
Jad froze.
Slowly... impossibly slowly... Nareen began to move.
But not the way the living move.
Her body jerked slightly... like a puppet whose strings had been yanked all at once.
Jad lifted his head.
Her eyes opened.
But there was nothing inside them.
No pain. No awareness. No Nareen.13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡXYmHT0f6lK
Just a cold, empty void.
A faint sound escaped her lips...
A hungry moan.
Then the body lunged at him.
No hesitation. No humanity.
Jad stood frozen for one brief moment. Just one.
He could have surrendered.
But her last words came back to him.
Take care of Alex.
His hand closed around the kitchen knife lying on the floor beside him.13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡIENhZ48kuq
And when the monster lunged—13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡKNAWWCXVCe
He moved.
It was over fast.
Jad stood in the middle of the room. The knife buried in her chest.
Nareen's body was still again.
Her empty eyes stared at the ceiling.
The room was silent.13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡOgOkA11ji7
Completely.
And somewhere outside the house... the monster rabbit was running through the darkness.
---
He came back to the present slowly.13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡhvDDS61ZVs
He was standing in front of Arya's door, and his features were harder now... but the sadness hadn't left him.
He looked at her.
"We... some of the neighbors." He paused before going on. "We decided to gather." He gestured toward the street. "To clear the neighborhood of the monsters that have started appearing. If we leave them... they'll grow stronger every day. And then they'll come for the houses, one by one."
He lifted his gaze to meet hers.
"That's why we're going out. To clean the neighborhood." His voice steadied. "I came to tell you."
He hesitated. "If you want... you can join us."
But then he shook his head slightly and added quickly, "Don't feel like you have to."
He looked at her the way he would look at his own daughter. "Truthfully... I'd rather you stay here if you're not ready."
Silence stretched between them. The street behind him was quiet—too quiet. The kind of heavy stillness that comes before a storm.
But a question was turning in Arya's mind.
She lifted her head slightly and looked at Jad.
"Uncle Jad..."
He paused before turning to leave.
"Yes?"
She hesitated, then asked, "How did you know... that the monsters grow stronger every day?"
He didn't answer right away.
Jad lowered his gaze, as if the question had pulled him back into a memory he didn't want to revisit.
Then he said, quietly, "I didn't know. Not until this morning."
Arya's brow furrowed.
Jad went on. "One of the neighbors, in the back street..." He paused. "Her husband turned yesterday."
A small, cold knot tightened in Arya's chest.
Jad's voice stayed low. "She said she locked him in the bedroom. The door was thick wood. He pounded on it for hours, but he couldn't break through."
He lifted his gaze slightly toward the street, as if he could still see the scene in front of him.
"But this morning..."
He stopped.
"He managed to put a hole through it."13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡkppyvRdCLe
Arya's eyes widened. "A hole...?"
Jad nodded slowly. "The same door he couldn't even scratch yesterday."
Silence.
A chill traced its way down Arya's spine.13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡTqBvbNXRmd
If that was true... it meant the monsters weren't staying the same.
They were getting stronger.
She swallowed. Then she raised her head and met his eyes, her gaze steadier now.
"Uncle Jad."
He looked at her.
She spoke calmly. Firmly. "I'm coming."
He seemed surprised for a second. "Are you sure?"13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡDGHVvHXgDL
She nodded. "If the monsters are getting stronger..." She paused. "Then I have to get stronger too."
Jad studied her face for a long moment.
Then a faint, tired smile crossed his features.
"You remind me of your mother..."
He murmured it, almost to himself.
Then he said, "We're gathering at the end of the street. By the old tool shop." He pointed west, down the road. "Half an hour."
He stopped before adding, "Don't come if you feel it's too dangerous."
But Arya didn't waver.
She nodded, calm. "I'll be there."
Jad looked at her one last time, as if making sure of her choice.
Then he sighed. "Alright."
He turned and started walking back down the quiet street. His steps were heavy... but steady.13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡKXmWXPCLI0
Arya stood at the door, watching Jad disappear between the silent houses.
The neighborhood felt calm... too calm.
But as she was closing the door, her eyes caught something moving at the far end of the street. A twisted shadow... slipping between the abandoned cars.
She shut the door immediately.
Only then did the truth settle fully inside her. This calm... wouldn't last.
---13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡw1VEg6HBe9
and then Add to home screen.