«کوکاین و آبل»

After the First Wave
Ginge woke alone in the snow, the clearing split open where his hilt had struck.
The team was gone.
The silence hit harder than the fall.
He sat there for a moment, staring at the cracks he’d made — not just in the ground, but in everything he cared about. He’d spent most of his life sprinting away from the man he didn’t want to be, only to realize he’d run straight into him.
Impatient.
Unkind.
Afraid of loving anything he might lose.
But the echoes from the First Wave still lingered in the air, faint but steady, like a reminder that he didn’t have to die as the same man he’d been born as.
He wasn’t proud of the choices that led him here.
He’d followed his own shadow long enough to forget there was light behind him.
He’d hurt people who didn’t deserve it.
He’d hurt himself even worse.
But none of that meant he had to stay broken.
He pushed himself to his feet, breath shaking but steadying with each exhale. Somewhere out there, the team was scattered — bruised, confused, maybe even doubting him. But they were alive. And he wasn’t done.
Change wasn’t easy.
Change wasn’t quick.
But change was possible.
He tightened his grip on the hilt, not as a weapon, but as a promise.
He would find them.
He would face what he’d done.
He would rebuild what he broke.
Losing them once was enough.
Losing himself again wasn’t an option.
Everything was fine.
Or at least — it would be.
Ginge stepped forward, no longer Cain, not yet Abel, but finally moving in the right direction.