The night spread its darkness fast, crawling across the sky like ink spilling over a blank page. Ivan and Ryaan had been walking for hours through noon, through dusk, and now into the thickening night. The forest path felt endless. Every step they took echoed with the crunch of dried leaves, every breath forming small clouds in the growing chill.
Moonlight filtered weakly through the branches above, creating thin silver lines on the uneven ground. The air smelled of wet soil and old wood. Somewhere far away, an owl hooted, breaking the silence for a brief second. Then everything was quiet again too quiet.
Ivan adjusted the strap of his bag and exhaled a long, shaky breath. "It's dark," he muttered, trying to hide the tremble in his voice. His eyes scanned the trees constantly, as if expecting something to come crawling out.
Ryaan didn't stop walking. "Hmm… do you know a fact?"
Ivan frowned. "What fact?"
"Most crimes happen at night."
Ivan halted for a moment, staring at him. "Are we going to commit a crime?"
Ryaan didn't even look back. His steps remained steady. "We're soldiers. We survive every battle. Now it's time to take back what was snatched from us."
Ivan hurried to keep up with him. "You live in a very isolated area."
"Yeah… it's old, but beautiful."
Ryaan pointed forward towards the a pond. "I was happy when I lived here. See that pond?"
Ivan followed his gaze. Through a small gap between the trees, he spotted a pond, still and calm. The surface reflected the moonlight like a sheet of black glass.
"I used to play near it with my mom," Ryaan said quietly.
Ivan softened. "She was happy then?"
"Yes. Our relationship was extremely good."
Ryaan's voice dropped.
"And then… that night came. The night I lost everything."
Ivan swallowed. He didn't know how to comfort him, so he asked the only question in his mind.
"Why did he kill her?"
Ryaan's jaw clenched, his footsteps slowing. "He hated my mother. I don't know why."
Ivan looked down. "Your mother fought with your dad every day… for little things."
"Your mom had an affair," Ryaan said sharply, like he was cutting the air with his words.
Ivan stopped walking entirely. "So what?"
"A woman only raises her voice when she trusts someone," Ryaan continued coldly. "She raised her voice before your dad. She knew your father was weak… and she took advantage of it. Your mother is a—"
"Don't." Ivan's voice was low, tense, almost dangerous.
"What?" Ryaan turned slightly. "You feel sympathy for a murderer?"
Ivan's hands curled into fists. "She's still my mother."
A heavy silence fell between them, thicker than the night air.
They continued walking, but now their footsteps moved slower. The path narrowed, trees crowding closer. Branches hung low; Ivan brushed them aside as they passed. The forest felt heavier with every step, as if it remembered everything that happened here.
Finally, after several minutes of silent walking, the trees thinned. A small clearing opened before them. Moonlight spilled onto the ground, revealing an old, worn-down house standing alone.
The house looked abandoned. The wooden walls were cracked, the paint peeled off long ago. Vines climbed its surface like green veins. One window was broken, and the front door hung slightly open, creaking when the wind touched it.
Ryaan stopped walking.
Ivan watched him carefully. Ryaan's shoulders stiffened, his eyes fixed on the house with a mixture of fear, anger, and grief.
"…We've arrived," Ryaan whispered.
The night grew even quieter, as if holding its breath with them.