For a moment, neither of them spoke.
The hallway hummed with the low, distant thrum of machinery, and the faint mewling of the kitten behind the glass filled the silence like a fragile thread holding the world together.
Haazi finally exhaled, slow and heavy.
"My leader," he began, voice softer than before. "He's the Director. We were friends, once upon a time."
Hana blinked, surprised by the sudden shift in tone. Haazi had never said anything about himself before this—he always felt like someone in the shadows, secret and silent. But now, he looked almost… human.
"We were just kids," he continued. "Two idiots having fun. He learnt a few things, hung out with a few people, and he changed." His eyes drifted downward, as if replaying memories only he could see. "I know he still remembers the old times. But it's like he thinks he can't go back."
Hana didn't think. The words slipped out of her before she could stop them.
"But he can go forward." Her voice was just above a whisper.
Haazi's head lifted. A small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth—gentle.
"Evil people… are still people," he said. The words lingered in the air, unsettling and comforting all at once.
Hana swallowed. "How is that related to the cats in the room?"
Haazi sighed deeply, the sound echoing faintly off the metal walls.
"We found some infected people have similar traits to a cat," he explained. "They may not look like much, but they have slight reactions… and an odd habit, similar to a cat's, with hunting."
Hana frowned. "Hunting?"
"They have a reflex," Haazi said, "of treating whatever runs from them as prey."
A chill crawled up Hana's spine. She glanced at the cats again—small, fragile, alive. The infected in the tubes. The green liquid. The experiments.
Haazi rubbed the back of his neck, looking suddenly older than his age. "I know you think badly of us because of the way we commence tests on infected people," he said quietly. "But we're just trying to figure out how the apocalypse happened."
Hana didn't respond. She didn't trust herself to. Her emotions were still raw, her power still simmering beneath her skin. She didn't know what to believe anymore—about the facility, the infected, the Director, or even herself.
Haazi looked at her again.
"…And we sure would like to know why you are so vastly different," he said, "to not only us, but also the infected."
He stepped closer—not threatening, not invasive, just close enough that she could see the sincerity in his eyes.
He paused.
Then softly asked:
"…What… are you?"
The question hung between them like a spark waiting to ignite a flame.