Kaodin drew his stance tighter. "Who are you. Why are you doing this to me?"
The figure slowly approached Kaodin, answered. "Why not?"
The warning landed just as the first thud struck the floor behind the pile.
"Oh, my brother already noticed you, here he comes."
A body drove forward, shoulders first, palms slapping wood.
A chain dragged behind him.
The collar at his neck flashed in the moonlight.
His spine bowed inward, neck drawn down until it lined with his shoulders, his back rising high and fixed in a shape that never learned to stand upright.
The familiar tone of a young-teen girl's aggressive voice followed from the dark.
"James, attack him. Pin him down for your cute younger sister."
James lunged; his jaw opened wide targeting Kaodin's arm. His teeth snapped at the small biting-size chunk of muscle and bone before him.
Kaodin stepped back. His gaze snapped to the pile of clothes.
He hooked a foot under the edge and kicked. Fabric burst upward, tumbling loose and wide, meant to block the vision of the incoming hostile.
Kaodin moved at the same beat.
He sprang forward and drove his lead foot straight into the lower torso—sharp, compact, a left 'Teep' frontal kick strike, but instead of breaking the frontal assault, the impact jolted his small body upward.
Before it could recover, his other foot snapped out mid-air, heel catching the face through the falling cloth, almost enough to execute a fatal Jarake-Fad-Hang, but without sufficient downforce. He was too weakened to complete it, yet it was enough to create distance.
James flew backward, momentum stolen and turned, crashing into the dark behind him.
Kaodin fell onto the wooden floor, still able to balance himself quickly while panting slightly. "What… what… is this… a man or an animal, exactly?"
"James."
The girl's voice issued a command that almost sounded like a screamed shout.
"Do it."
Her command hit him like a switch.
James surged again, raised himself upward with two feet. He left his right arm to pull the clothe off from his face before started continuing hurling himself forward both arms held high and sending barraging assault, nails sharpened ready. The moment, his right hand came down closed in a heavy slap meant to break through guard by sheer weight.
Kaodin shifted backward by half a step, just enough.
The arc approached him with full force as it sent a loud growled following the strike. Kaodin angled his shoulder and let the blow pass where he had been a breath earlier.
The strike passed Kaodin by a hair and carried through into the figure behind him instead. Impact landed with a dull, breath-stealing thud, close and wet enough to sound absolutely fatal.
A trail of warm liquid splashed against the boards.
"Ugh—James," the voice snapped, anger cracking through the pain. "You dared hit your big sister?"
Kaodin didn't look back.
The corner of his mouth lifted, just barely, then settled again as he shifted his stance.
Kaodin caught the moment the larger woman reeled toward the clothing pile, one arm clamped tight against the long slash along left forearm which she used to block the accidental slash. She staggered, breath torn loose in sharp bursts. The sound barely reached the other one.
The feral man did not slow.
Her cry only fed him. His lips peeled back from filed teeth as a long growl poured out of his chest, stretched and brutal, too sustained to be any animal sound Kaodin knew. Red eyes locked onto him, unblinking, intensity arose.
Kaodin moved first.
He pivoted behind the larger woman, sliding into her blind side as his right hand snapped forward, fingers loose and open, a taunting curl aimed squarely at the feral man.
"Come", sounds, dried and low, almost as if he mumbled to himself.
The youngest girl at the far end of the room saw it. Her mouth opened, red lipstick splitting wide as she drew breath to shout.
But it was too late.
Kaodin surged forward, his lead foot striking the floor twice in quick succession, each step landing heavy on purpose. The sound carried.
The larger woman reacted on instinct. Her shoulders jerked, spine straightening as she turned toward the noise behind her.
That was the opening.
Kaodin drove once more, boots slapping wood as he ran up her lowered frame just as she rose. The timing collided. Her shoulder dipped under the sudden weight, her balance breaking, and for half a beat the movement turned clumsy, almost accidental.
It worked.
He slipped on the uneven lift, palms brushing her hair as he corrected mid-motion, fingers catching briefly in the coarse curl before he planted and let momentum take him.
The feral man charged straight through.
Kaodin lifted above him in a clean arc, hips snapping around faster than he intended. The turn over-rotated. Too much force. Too much speed.
Jarake-Fad-Hang.
His heel came down hard on the crown of the skull. Fatally landed a hard thud which sounded surprisingly too loud for what Kaodin usually practiced, brutal, concussive crack that drove the head downward, spine followed with it. The growl cut off mid-sound, replaced by a hollow, wet impact as the body, still standing, staggered forward.
The bestial man, shaking his head as his hand extended upward almost like trying to grab on something.
Kaodin hit the floor a fraction off-balance, feet skidding before he caught himself. His chest heaved. His vision swam.
But he didn't stop.
He turned back toward the big sister, one hand still pressured her bleeding cut arm, while her eyes extremely angered, latching at Kaodin, unblinking.
"Now, you've made me extremely mad. I thought I would bring you to favor Lady Ingkrit easily. It seems I'll just—"
Before she could finish, Kaodin was too tired to listen. As she hurled herself slightly lower midsentence, trying to frighten him, he answered politely with a faint smile tugging at the corner of his lips, before promptly sent a sharp kick to the side of her right kneecap, forcing her tall frame to dip just a little lower.
Then he followed through.
A Muay Boran frontal snap rose at a sharp angle, bare foot cutting upward into the soft hollow of her throat.
Her breath shattered with a raw gasp. The reaction was instinctive. Knees buckled. Strength drained as her body folded inward.
Kaodin seized the opening. and he used the sudden drop of her torso like a lever. He yanked down and forward for purchase, then drove his hips up, turning his shoulders across the line of his pull.
The lift came from his core, not height.
A result of his years of practiced torso.
His feet left the floor as his body rotated around the point he had stolen from her posture. One knee chambered tight to accelerate rotation, the other leg trailing for a fraction before snapping into the line of attack.
He released her head at the apex.
The sudden loss of resistance fed the rotation—like letting go of a rope mid-swing, and his body snapped through the remaining arc of the 540.
The strike met the feral man's left jaw as he surged in, heel cutting across on the descending turn. Impact detonated at the point of contact, torque whipping the head sideways while the body still drove forward.
The growl died mid-breath as the rotation carried through as he landed wide and low, one foot sliding back to absorb the drop, knees bent, hips sunk. His torso stayed upright, shoulders square, balance already settled before the impact finished echoing.
Kaodin hands came up slow, one open, one half-curled, guard already in place.
"For all the people you killed…" he whispered, the words dry and torn from his throat. "…and ate."
The feral took two steps farther. Its head was twisted backward, throwing off its balance. It began running in reverse, as if trying to return to its father and sister, but the movement turned ugly fast.
Kaodin dropped out of the spin hard. Bare feet slapped against the wood. Ankles screamed. He caught himself with one hand on the floor, breath tearing out in a harsh, uneven pull.
But the feral did not rise.
The room answered with silence.
James's frantic cries made the entire house groan, low and eerily alive.
The chain at his collar skidded and clattered as he lurched back to his feet.
Something in him had slipped out of alignment.
He moved again, erratic and wrong, limbs driving him forward without aim. He slammed headfirst into the wall. Once. Then again. As if something inside him had completely misaligned with how to move its own body.
Wood split along an old seam.
The slanted wall started creaking.
Boards cracked open with dry, brittle snaps.
James staggered through the collapse, dragging it with him. The damage carried into the adjoining room in a rolling failure of beams and flooring.
The daughter lost her footing as the floor folded. A broken cry tore out of her before the debris swallowed her shape.
The entire house tilted, weight shifting, joints screaming.
Then it began to come down.
Kaodin felt the tilt pull on his body too.
A perceptual compression formed—a sharp gravity drag along his left foot, the floor slanting beneath him.
A shout rose from deeper in the house.
The older man staggered across the angled boards, then slid beneath the broken staircase.
A splash sounded below.
The tilt deepened.
Kaodin braced himself and moved with the slide of scattered clothing. But then he found the identical plain-looking, his grey hoodie jacket shifted with the movement. And from its pocket, something small and white rolled across the boards.
A pair of his white knuckle guards.
They slid toward the fresh gap in the floor.
He stepped after them, but the chain limited his stride.
He lunged.
His fingers closed on the fabric just as it neared the drop.
The cloth met his palm with familiar roughness.
Warmth stirred against his skin.
A memory rose.
Not an image—only sensation.
Singh tightening the guard. His thumb smoothing the frayed edge. The slight tremor in the cloth when he flexed his wrist before a match. The quiet certainty in the way he moved.
The memory faded.
The guard remained in Kaodin's grip; his eyes became teary without himself knowing.
Suddenly, a weight looped tight around his neck.
Laces.
They bit into the skin below his jaw.
A sharp jerk pulled backward.
Air cut off.
A body pressed into his spine.
His chest locked.
"I don't know how you do it," a man murmured behind him. "But I'll just cut a piece of you to taste, and send you to the grace Lady Inglit, she will wants you as her pet. So sleep."
Kaodin did not resist the pull.
He held his breath where it caught.
Then he dropped his weight.
Both heels struck backward.
The impact collided with the man's torso just enough for the small, opened gap.
Kaodin tore free and stumbled forward, catching the ground with one hand to spring himself upright.
His throat burned. A thin line of pain crept up the right side where the lace had scraped skin.
He quickly balanced himself to face the attacker, just as new footsteps cut through the collapsing house.
The big sister. She was holding onto what appeared to be some kind of mechanical restraining device bolted to the wooden plank floor. A hole sat at its center, with both wrists restrained on either side.
Then someone else appeared. Kaodin caught them at the corner of his right eye.
Two figures entered through the kitchen door, emerging from the dust.
Their movement held a steady precision, as if their eyes had already scanned the entire scene before they crossed the threshold.
Kaodin's body reacted before thought.
His shoulders narrowed.
His weight tightened around the chain.
His gaze locked on their center lines.
Strangers. Not family. New threat.
The first was a young man around Kaodin's age. He moved low, scanning each broken angle of the room.
"Father. Quickly. There is a boy fighting one of the cannibal family alone."
No panic touched his voice.
The second entered behind him. Taller. Adult.
"Friend," the younger one shouted. "Look out."
Suddenly, a short knife flashed, as the big sister twisted her frontal belt outward.
The arc aimed cleanly for Kaodin's throat.
Kaodin's body acted before comprehension.
His right hand rose.
Salap-Fan-Pla.
Slapping out the left-hand knife attack away from his throat.
His shoulder dipped inward; left elbow promptly entered beneath the attacker's right ribs.
"Ugh…"
Her shoulder dipped inward, elbow entering beneath the attacker's ribs.
Air burst from the man's lungs. She collapsed forward, clutching her side as blood surfaced through fabric and spread under her fingers.
"How….." her voice became stuttered, "Don't kill me, Lady Ingrit, One of the Oboros…"
The taller male figure fired.
A bolt struck the collapsing man and completed the fall.
Dust thickened.
Silence followed.
"Father, why did you kill him, he was trying to say something about the weird cult people?"
"Relax," the man said, his voice firm, almost a whisper as he spoke to his son. "He's one of the strays from a cult situated far past SAI, toward the dried eastern seaport. Too far from our area to be any concern."
Kaodin kept his stance low despite the chain.
Every muscle held, waiting for the slightest hint of hostile intent.
The young stranger lifted his empty hand in a gesture meant to ease the tension.
"We are not here to harm you. My name is Cee-Too. This is my pop, Cee-Ar-Tee. We are scavengers from CSDS, we can take you to our hideout if you choose, and we don't eat humans, you can be sure on that.", the boy, around the same age as Kaodin, named Cee-Too, flashed a smile as he spoke.
Kaodin pressed his heel into the plank beneath him.
He did not believe them.
Something about the two stood outside the range of normal human exhaustion.
No stagger.
No misalignment in their posture despite the shifting floor, almost as if their body had a perfect balance.
Before Kaodin could analyze further, a beam cracked overhead.
Dust rained down.
Then the remaining supports began to fail.
The house dropped in stages.
The fractured corner folded inward first, dragging part of the ceiling with it. Plaster broke into coarse pieces that slid across the tilted floor. A cupboard tore from its hinges and crashed open, scattering utensils.
Cee-Too steadied himself with one hand against the counter.
Cee-Ar-Tee shifted his weight wide to keep balance.
Kaodin felt the floor tilt harder.
Boards sagged under his feet.
The pull dragged toward the open drop where James had fallen.
He planted one hand against the nearest intact plank to slow the slide.
The older man surged up from the rot beneath the staircase. The slurry of bodies and collapsed larvae parted just long enough for his face and one reaching hand to break free. Then the mass shifted again, dragging debris and dead weight over him, and he vanished back into it.
Dust began drifted in long lines, and light started to flickered through broken seams in the ceiling.
Cee-Ar-Tee traced the fractures above them with a quick, assessing glance.
"The load is shifting again. Another section will go."
Cee-Too pointed toward a narrow line of boards near the far wall where the floor still held shape.
"Move there. The frame is strongest on that side."
Kaodin tightened his grip on the knuckle guards and stepped carefully onto the stable stretch. The chain around his ankles forced him into short, deliberate strides. The incline worked against him. He leaned into the unbroken side.
Cee-Too followed, leaving space between their steps so the boards wouldn't take their combined weight.
Cee-Ar-Tee backed toward them, his attention split between ceiling fractures and the sinking hollow below.
The vent window rattled as the house shifted again.
A thin strip of moonlight cut across the dust, catching the broken wall frame.
Kaodin reached the last solid board before the hallway.
He looked back at the collapsed rooms, the jagged edges of wood forming uneven shapes.
The chain clicked softly at his ankles.
He turned forward and stepped into the corridor.
The floor leveled enough to walk, but the faint pull of the house's tilt pressed through each plank.
His next step lagged behind his weight.
His breath pulled shallow.
Too long without food and water…
His right foot found the floor but without certainty.
Awareness narrowed to a small circle around his legs.
The hallway blurred at the edges.
Behind him, Cee-Too shifted his stance.
"Hold on. You are losing your stance."
Kaodin tried to turn toward the voice, but his neck moved only a few degrees.
His throat dragged dry already too exhausted to even give voice.
The corridor stretched farther, as though the end had slipped away from him.
Cee-Ar-Tee's voice stayed cautious.
"He is going down."
Kaodin lifted a hand as if to steady himself. His fingers curled inward halfway.
His legs folded.
The chain clinked against the boards.
He fell sideways.
The impact softened not by intention, but by exhaustion. His shoulder met the floor. His forehead touched his arm.
The knuckle guards slipped from his hand.
One brushed the inside of his wrist.
The familiar stitching warmed beneath his skin.
A brief memory rose.
Singh brother pressing his thumb along the frayed edge. The faint tremor in the cloth when he flexed his wrist. The quiet certainty he carried even on the day he tried to thrive against the unyielding force…
The memory dimmed.
Kaodin's next breath broke into two shallow pulls before stopping entirely.
His chest could not complete the inhale.
Darkness pressed inward.
Cee-Too reached him first. He knelt and placed a hand on Kaodin's upper arm. His fingers tightened when he felt how little resistance remained.
"He is dehydrated. Possibly starved."
Cee-Ar-Tee stepped closer, blade lowered but still ready.
"The boy fought with true grit far beyond his size. Check him for injuries before we move."
Kaodin's eyes closed fully.
His body sagged into the floor.
The breath he tried to draw did not return.
Cee-Too lifted the knuckle guards before they could slide into the broken corridor gap.
He set them beside Kaodin's hand and watched the faint twitch of the boy's fingers as consciousness slipped from him.
Kaodin's red shoes had rolled a short distance uphill on the tilted boards.
The hoodie he had looped around his neck earlier had nearly slid toward the drop.
Cee-Too retrieved both and placed them beside the boy rather than the collapse.
"He tried to protect these," he said quietly. "Whatever they are, they matter to him."
Cee-Ar-Tee examined Kaodin's cracked lips, the dried sweat across his skin, the bruising from restraints.
"He will not last here. The structure is unstable."
Dust drifted in thin lines from the ceiling.
Another floorboard groaned beneath the shifting weight of the house.
"We move him now," Cee-Ar-Tee said.
Cee-Too slid an arm beneath Kaodin's shoulders.
Cee-Ar-Tee supported his legs, careful of the chain that bound them together.
Kaodin did not stir.
His breaths remained shallow and uneven.
The faint warmth of the knuckle guard rested against his palm.
Together, they lifted him from the biroken hallway.
The boards trembled once beneath their combined weight.
Then held.
They carried the unconscious boy out of the collapsing house, his body light from hunger, his face slack with exhaustion, his fingers still resting near the knuckle guard that had once belonged to his brother.