He moved on to the next pods. Two girls and three more boys, all in the same condition: pale, frail, wrapped in cables. He worked methodically, freeing them one by one. With every cable he removed, the faint glow of the machine behind them dimmed further.

Within minutes, every child was free. They stood around him, still weak, some leaning on each other to stay upright.

One of the girls looked up at Alaric, eyes glistening with tears.

"Thank you… brother."

That was all.

No crying, no embraces. Just a quiet, heartfelt word and because of that simplicity, it carried more weight than any grand gesture.

The others followed, their voices fragile but trembling with emotion.

"Thank you, brother."

Alaric looked at each of them in turn, then gave a small nod.

"You don't need to thank me," he said quietly. "You only took back what should never have been taken from you."

Alaric stood among the children he had just saved.

They lined up quietly beside him, some still trembling, their frail bodies not yet fully recovered. But they endured. Because as long as Alaric stood beside them, their fear began to fade.

A few of them looked out at the world beyond with disbelief, as if seeing it for the first time after being trapped for so long in that cruel system.

Alaric glanced at them, drew in a long breath, and prepared to lead them out of this place.

Before he could take a step, a weak voice rose from the ruins to his right.

"P… please… help me…"

Alaric turned slowly. His gaze swept over the dust and twisted steel until it stopped on a man lying on the ground, tangled in the blue energy web Alaric had conjured earlier.

It was him... the same man who had once watched the children suffer with a cruel, detached smile. Now he was nothing more than a shadow of his former power. His body was torn and bloodied from the explosion, his face caked with grime, and his eyes no longer carried the arrogance that had once gleamed there. He tried to lift a hand, but each pulse from the energy web threw him back down.

"Alaric… help me…" he whispered, his voice a broken mix of pleading and pain. "I can't… move…"

Alaric stood motionless. A storm brewed quietly inside him. He stared at the man for a few long seconds, unreadable.

Then, slowly, he took a single step forward.

The energy web glowed faintly under his feet, still active but weakening. He could disable it with one touch.. and the man would be free. But he didn't.

In the silence, memories flickered through his mind. The cries of the children. Their screams as their energy was drained away. Their pale faces, their convulsing bodies as the machines stole their life force. And among it all, the echo of this man's laughter. Cold, unfeeling, inhuman.

Alaric closed his eyes for a moment, holding back something heavy inside his chest. It wasn't rage. It was the refusal to feel pity for a man who had none.

"Why aren't you saying anything?" the man shouted, panic rising in his voice. "I'm badly hurt! You think I deserve to die here? You're a hero, aren't you? Look at them! The children! They're safe now! So let me go, Alaric!"

Alaric didn't answer.

His gaze stayed cold, steady. After a long moment, he shook his head.

"I'm not a hero," he said quietly.

"And you're not someone worth saving."

The man froze. The fear in his eyes began to swallow what was left of his pride. He shook his head rapidly, desperate for mercy.

"No… no, you don't understand… I was following orders! I didn't have a choice!"

But Alaric didn't look at him again.

He turned instead toward the children.

"Go to that doorway," he said calmly, pointing to a cracked corridor on the right side of the hall. "We're leaving before this place collapses."

Before they could move, the man shouted again. This time at the children.

"You! All of you! I know you can hear me! Please… please help me… I won't hurt you again, I promise!"

No one moved.

The children only stared, their eyes filled with quiet pain. Some lowered their heads. Some clung to each other. There were no cruel words, no shouts. But the silence cut deeper than any scream could.

One of them, the boy Alaric had freed first... finally spoke in a small voice, barely audible above the rumbling of the weakening building.

"That's enough."

And with that, they turned away.

Leaving the man trapped where he lay.

Alaric walked at the front, his steps steady. But before crossing the exit, he stopped. His shoulders tensed, and his gaze shifted back toward the man struggling weakly in the glowing net.

The ground trembled harder now, pieces of concrete raining down from the ceiling. But Alaric didn't move. He stared at the man one last time. Then, without a word or warning, he stepped forward in a swift motion. His fist connected squarely with the man's face.

A sharp crack echoed through the room. Blood spattered across the floor.

The man slumped, half-conscious, eyes wide with shock and disbelief.

"This," Alaric said flatly, looking down at him, "is not revenge for the children. It's a reminder of the pain you deserve to feel."

He drew in a steady breath, straightened his back, and walked away without another glance. The children followed, one by one, their footsteps soft but sure.

Behind them, the energy web flickered, still sparking faintly, as the structure around it began to crumble.

When the heavy door finally opened, a gust of cold wind swept in... carrying dust and the dim light of the late afternoon sun.

Alaric stepped outside first. The children followed, staring at the open world with eyes that still couldn't believe they were truly free.

Behind them, the chamber where the man was trapped collapsed in on itself.

The sound of breaking steel and shattering stone echoed through the air, wallowing everything into a cloud of dust.

But Alaric kept walking, his stride unshaken, making sure the children behind him stayed close.

Amid the distant rumble of falling debris, a small voice broke the silence.

"Sir… please save my other friends."

Alaric stopped. The boy who had spoken was walking beside him, eyes full of hope.

"Your friends?" Alaric asked quickly, his tone firm but not harsh. "They're still inside?"

The boy nodded fast, swallowing hard as if afraid they were running out of time. "Yes. The ones who weren't turned into energy for the machines. They're still in the eastern wing."

Alaric's pupils tightened slightly. Without another word, he activated the holographic map on his wristband. A pale blue light projected upward, forming a three-dimensional map of the collapsing facility. Red dots marked traces of remaining human energy.

"Alright. You all go outside first. Wait for me there," he said with quiet certainty. There was no room for hesitation in his voice.

The children looked at each other, reluctant to leave him behind. But something in his gaze gave them strength—the same quiet resolve that had guided them this far. They nodded and hurried toward the safe exit Alaric had shown them.

Once they were far enough, Alaric turned and sprinted down the opposite corridor. His eyes scanned the flickering lights, the trembling cables along the walls that pulsed like the veins of some dying creature. Sparks rained down as he ran, the holographic map hovering before him, guiding his path.

He stopped in front of a massive steel door, half-melted by heat. "Here," he muttered. Drawing in a deep breath, he kicked hard. The door flew off its hinges with a deafening crash.

Inside, the air was thick with the scent of scorched metal and machine coolant.

A dozen children sat slumped against the walls, eyes open but empty, as if part of their souls had been stolen. They weren't bound. They weren't being tortured anymore. But fear and trauma held them captive all the same.

Alaric stepped closer. "You're safe now."

No one answered. Only a few pairs of eyes shifted toward him, uncertain, their gazes darting away and back again.

He knelt to their level. "Your friends are outside. They're free. You can be too."

Slowly, a girl stood up. Her hands trembled as she took a step toward him, beginning to trust. Then another followed, and another, until all of them were on their feet.

"Hold each other's hands," Alaric said, scanning their faces. "Don't let go, no matter what happens. If one of you can't walk, let someone else carry you."

They joined hands, and Alaric waited until they were ready. Then he lifted his arm again, projecting the holographic map into the air. It displayed the nearest exit route. But it wasn't the one they had come from. That path was too long. The building wouldn't hold that much longer.

"We can't go that way," he murmured, studying the flickering lines. "We'll take the western passage. It's unstable, but it's the only way out."

He looked at them. "Trust me."

They nodded quietly. Alaric took the lead once more, pushing through the dust and falling debris, breaking through walls that had already begun to crumble. Each step echoed beneath the thunder of collapsing metal. But his movements stayed calm, eyes fixed on the glowing map that led them through the maze of destruction.

And through all the ruin that surrounded them, one thing remained clear and alive—the small, steady light of human hearts holding on to one another in their shared fragility.