Tondo, Manila – Year 2029
Kael, Age 11
The ceiling fan clacked like it was trying to escape its hinges.
The room smelled like laundry and instant noodles. A single light bulb swayed on a wire above them, throwing long shadows across the cracked floor tiles.
Kael sat by the window, elbows resting on his knees, eyes scanning the alley below. Faint voices echoed in the distance — the kind that came out after dark.
Behind him, Levi tossed his shoes into the corner and flopped down onto his mattress, arms spread wide like he owned the whole floor.
"You're tall for your age, you know that?" Levi said, pointing at Kael with a plastic spoon. "You look like you're already eighteen."
Kael didn't turn around. Just shrugged.
"You're just short."
"Rude." Levi rolled over and pulled a half-eaten pack of chips from under his pillow. "I'm perfectly average."
Kael didn't answer, but the side of his mouth twitched — almost a smile.
The room wasn't much. A two-bed space in a narrow boarding house. Rusted window bars. Shared bathroom down the hall. But it was theirs or close enough.
Kael's aunt wired rent every month from abroad. He hadn't seen her in over a year, but she always sent just enough. Food. School. Roof. The basics.
"You ever think about leaving this place?" Levi asked, his voice quieter now.
Kael leaned back from the window, letting the curtain fall shut.
"What for?"
Levi shrugged.
"I dunno. Somewhere better. Somewhere not crawling with lowlifes and dudes yelling at dogs."
Kael stared at the ceiling. The fan clacked on.
"They're everywhere. Not just here."
Levi tossed a pillow at him.
"Man, you are depressing."
"I'm realistic."
"You're eleven."
That time, Kael did smile — small, tired, but real.
"Still realistic."
Outside, a car alarm went off. A dog barked. Somewhere in the distance, someone shouted, and someone else shouted back.
Inside their little room, it was quiet again.
And for the first time in a long time, Kael didn't feel like he was just waiting for the world to fall apart.
A week passed.
Kael didn't talk much. Still didn't smile often. But he trained quietly, relentlessly.
Push-ups at dawn. Squats between chores. Sit-ups until sweat hit the floor.
The boarding house didn't have much room, so he made do with what he had, buckets filled with water, bricks tied with rope, his own bodyweight and silence.
Levi noticed.
At first, he just watched from bed while pretending to nap.
"You training for something?" Levi finally asked one night.
Kael wiped his face with a towel, not looking up.
"No."
"You just enjoy suffering?"
"Kinda."
Levi snorted. "Freak."
But after that, he stopped asking. He just left space for it, respected it. Maybe even admired it.
---
Another week passed.
Kael came home from the store late one afternoon. He opened the door to their room and found Levi already there sitting on the floor, back to the wall, head tilted down.
"You're back early," Kael said.
No answer.
Kael took one step closer, and froze.
There was a faint mark on Levi's cheek. A red one, already darkening. His lip was split, crusted with dry blood. One sleeve of his shirt was torn.
Kael dropped the bag of canned goods on the table without a word.
He knelt down and reached for Levi's chin, careful, steady.
Levi flinched.
"Don't—"
Kael ignored it. He tilted Levi's face to the light. Saw the bruise clearly.
"Who did this?" he asked, voice low.
Levi winced when Kael's thumb brushed too close to the cut.
"It hurts, dumbass."
"Yeah. No shit." Kael's eyes didn't blink. "Tell me."
Levi pulled away and leaned back against the wall again, sighing through his nose.
"Group of older kids. From the next block. Been messing with some of us after school."
"Why you?"
"I answered back. Wasn't smart."
Kael's jaw tightened. He didn't say anything for a while. The silence was cold. Focused.
"Are they Ascenders?" he finally asked.
Levi shook his head. "No. Just assholes who think they run this street."
Kael nodded slowly.
He stood. Grabbed a damp cloth and passed it to Levi.
"Hold that. Don't touch it too much."
Levi took it, pressing it to his cheek.
"You don't have to do anything," Levi said, voice low.
Kael stepped toward the window, pulled it open, and stared into the night.
"I'm not doing anything," he said.
"I'm just making sure they don't do it again."