?"Sir, will it take long?" Blaise asked, looking at his hand.

  "A long time ago..."

  ?"Kylia, it’s time to eat."

  "I’m coming, Mom, just let me finish this."

  ?A young inventor only 10 years old. His name was Kylia—or at least, that’s what they called him. He was a mischievous boy, full of energy. His cute, androgynous appearance often helped him get out of trouble.

  ?Life was simple for him. Though his home wasn't wealthy, his family loved him deeply. He lived with his mother, father, and grandmother; all three adored him. His green eyes stood out anywhere, and his long dark hair contrasted perfectly with his pale skin.

  ?One ordinary day, his parents brought home a woman who looked to be in her 40s. As a young couple, they decided to hire someone to look after Kylia and help his grandmother while they went out to work.

  As experienced hunters, they brought home money and food, while Kylia would repair their damaged gear and create new technological wonders for them.

  ?Life for Kylia was peaceful: his days were split between work and play. Their home was humble, made of wood, and would have been unremarkable if not for his mother’s artistic talent.

  His mother, Lucy, was gifted in art and painting; she decorated the house with paintings she created alongside her son.

  His father, George, was a tougher man, known for his swordsmanship and sculpting skills. The house was filled with statues he had carved. Thus, Kylia grew up surrounded by art, never lacking something to read or do.

  ?One rainy day, Kylia went out to wait for his parents. Minutes turned into hours. They never took more than five hours to return, but now two days had passed. On the third day, despite his grandmother’s scolding, he decided to search for them in the forest.

  ?The path was full of tracks; Kylia was good at following trails. He found pieces of armor and weapons he had made for them. Startled but determined, he pushed forward.

  After hours of walking, he reached the deep forest and heard screams coming from a cave.

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  Upon investigating, he saw something he had never seen before: blood.

  ?A trail led inside. The screams and the scent of death told him to turn back, but Kylia was never one to be afraid.

  His parents had taught him that even if something doesn't seem right, in this world, those who don't dare are left only with doubt.

  ?The cave was damp; the smell of decay was foul. It was dark, and Kylia moved forward guided only by a man’s screams. Before turning a corner, he looked back: the sun was setting. He stepped quietly through puddles, unable to tell if they were water or blood.

  ?Peering toward a beam of light from within, he heard a cry:

  "I know absolutely nothing! I swear!"

  ?He saw seven bald, hooded men standing before his parents.

  Kylia nearly burst into tears at the sight. He remembered what his father told him years ago: "If you want to survive and you aren't strong, just be quiet and wait for your moment." Back then, his father was healthy and strong... now he was in a wretched state: hands and feet bound, mouth bleeding, covered in burns, mud, and fresh cuts. His fingers were shattered.

  ?Beside him, his mother fared no better: her blonde hair had been hacked off, and she was gagged, bruised, and filthy. Their eyes met. Terror filled Lucy’s gaze. In that moment, Kylia couldn't take it anymore.

  He pulled a blowgun from his trousers; each dart was made of a metal alloy and imbued with paralyzing herbs.

  ?He fired with precision. As the seven men fell dazed, he rushed to cut his parents' ropes. His mother leaped up, though her legs trembled.

  Lucy grabbed Kylia, kissed his forehead, and stepped in front of him. His father lunged at the paralyzed men, slitting the throats of two with Kylia’s knife.

  ?But it wasn't enough. After he took down the third, the other four recovered. Kylia was shocked; one of his darts could stop a bear for an hour. The men struck George with such force that he went flying, coughing up blood.

  ?"Use it again! Everything you have!" his father screamed.

  ?Kylia fired his last six darts, hitting all four men. Lucy and George, exhausted, took a fighting stance.

  Suddenly, the men began to emit fire from their bodies. They weren't normal. George charged, impaling one, but another grabbed his arm and set it ablaze. George lost his right arm.

  ?In a flash, the mother slit the attacker's throat, but the largest man grabbed her, squeezing with such force that she coughed up blood.

  By the light of the fire, Kylia saw his mother’s pale skin burning. As the light faded from her eyes, she looked at Kylia and whispered: "Survive." With her final strength, she drove the knife through her own neck, piercing her captor’s as well.

  ?George, with an agonizing cry, killed the last man with a blow that shattered his jaw. He approached his son, spitting blood.

  "Come, son. Carry your mother; we will give her a proper burial."

  ?Kylia hoisted his mother’s limp body onto his back. At the exit, a familiar silhouette appeared.

  Before he could process it, a knife flew through the air and slit George’s throat. Standing before him was Kristine, the woman hired to care for them.

  ?"Then... my grandmother..." Kylia sobbed.

  ?He ran toward her, eyes blurred with tears. As he crashed against the tall woman’s legs, he lost consciousness.

  The last thing he saw was his father’s corpse reaching out for his mother’s hand. Like a blood-soaked work of art.