Chapter 1

The instant the reeking wind hit my face, I shoved Rehn hard to the side.

Almost in the same second, that mass of mutated flesh slammed straight through my defense. A ripping, tearing agony exploded in my right arm as sharp bone spurs pried open skin and meat. Warm liquid splattered across the cracked wasteland ground, blooming into dark stains.

Clutching a wound deep enough to show bone, I crashed into a pool of blood.

“Fire!” I screamed in my head through clenched teeth, staring at the mutant that had gone stiff for a brief moment after the impact—waiting for Rehn’s rifle to cover me.

But the wind carried only frantic footsteps.

I turned my head with effort. Through swirling sand and dust, I caught only a resolute back—Rehn didn’t look at me once. He sprinted toward the supply crate we’d just pried open, snatched two bags of canned beans from inside, and vanished into the thick fog without turning back.

He ran.

He left me in front of the monster.

“See? Mom warned you a long time ago—Rehn is a venomous snake to the bone. Sooner or later he’ll stab you in the back.”

A gentle voice—laced with disappointment and a helpless sigh—rang suddenly inside my fading mind.

I froze. It was my mother’s voice. But she’d died in the Great Infection five years ago.

“Silly child, stop looking. I’m really gone. What you’re hearing now is only a fragment of consciousness left in your nerve endings.” Mom’s voice was thick with tenderness, like when she used to treat the scrapes on my knees back in the old district. “Listen to me. On this wasteland, there’s an extremely harsh, high-tier ‘matriarch evolution law.’ Rehn’s genes happen to match it.”

Blood loss made my whole body cold. Even my thoughts slowed. “What… law?”

“He’s awakening,” Mom’s tone sharpened. “He’s crossing toward the rank of a ‘Savior.’ To this deformed world, he’s the chosen one. But to him—you’re nothing but a sacrifice to fill the missing piece of his status, a shield he can throw in front of blades anytime!”

“Impossible…” I argued in my head on instinct. Even after watching him run, my first reflex was still to defend him. “Mom, you never liked him. In that situation, if he stayed we’d both die. He must’ve gone to get help…”

“You child—how are you still this naïve?” Mom sighed hard. “Fine. You don’t believe me? Then listen to what he’ll do next.”

“He hasn’t gone far. He’s hiding at the edge of the red zone. Once the mutant leaves, he’ll come back, pretend he’s heartbroken, bandage you up. On the road after that, he’ll treat you especially well—but in the dark, he’ll stash ammunition, keep draining the last value out of you, until the next dead-end comes. Then he’ll use you as the perfect bait and dump you for good.”

Her words were an ice spike driven straight up my spine and into my heart.

I stared hard in the direction Rehn disappeared. The pain in my body and the tearing of truth collided violently. My vision dimmed, darker and darker—until I couldn’t hold on anymore and fell into silence.

A rough strip of cloth suddenly cinched into my flesh. The sharp pain ripped me awake.

The moment I opened my eyes, I saw Rehn’s dust-caked face.

“Thank God—you’re finally awake!” He gripped my shoulders, eyes red, his face full of fear and relief. “I risked my life to lure those monsters away, circled around for ages before I dared come back for you… I thought you weren’t going to make it!”

I looked at the sweat on his forehead, and my mother’s prediction echoed again in my ears.

My fingers slowly clenched at my side. I forced down the cold rising in my chest and pulled a dry, weak smile. “I’m fine… not dead yet.”

The throbbing wound followed us for the entire escape route that came after. To maintain his “devoted brother” persona, Rehn practically became a different person.

When we moved through ruined streets, he always shoved me to the inner side. When we climbed over collapsed concrete, he grabbed the heaviest loads for himself. Even at night on watch, he gave me the best, most concealed high ground.

With every extra bit of care, the warmth in my heart dropped another degree.

Because Mom had predicted it all—perfectly.

The crack in the disguise surfaced one night.

The infection in my wound woke me from shallow sleep. Eyes closed, I heard faint rustling—tiny friction sounds.

Moonlight seeped through a crack in the wall. I opened my eyes a sliver.

Rehn was crouched in the corner with his back to me. He opened the backpack he never let out of reach, moving with extreme care. One by one, he pressed the few rounds we’d scavenged during the day into a hidden compartment at the very bottom, then smoothed the surface flat again.

My stomach churned—but I held myself still and made no sound.

As soon as gray morning light bled into the abandoned room, Rehn slung his rifle and, using “scouting the perimeter” as an excuse, left me in the temporary shelter.

The moment his foot crossed the iron door, I braced myself on the wall and stood, stumbling toward the corner. I flipped open his backpack.

The instant I unzipped the bottom layer, my breathing stopped completely.

Besides a full stash of hidden ammunition, the compartment held six neatly stacked blocks of high-energy compressed rations.

Just last night, Rehn had reddened his eyes, fished half a wrinkled ration from his pocket, and shoved it into my hand, forcing a bitter smile. “Brother, this is our last bit of reserves. You’re badly hurt—you eat.”

And I’d actually believed that was everything we had.

I gripped the silver package so hard my knuckles turned white.

Years of brotherhood built on taking bullets—turned into an absurd joke in one instant. I wanted to confront him, to smash this right into his face—

But I glanced down at my right arm, still bleeding, so weak I could barely lift it.

In my condition, if I tore off the mask now, I wouldn’t even have the strength to walk out of this street.

I drew a slow breath, zipped the bag back exactly as it was, and put it where it belonged. Then I pulled the tactical dagger from my boot and hid it close—slipping it up into my sleeve.