The shift ended late.
No incidents were reported. The rain came down right as the industrial lights along the Wall shifted color. There was no clear dismissal order. Everyone simply understood that the main work was done. Whatever remained could wait until tomorrow, if needed.
Groups of workers left quietly.
The Awakened who had been sent beyond the Wall returned one by one. Their coats were soaked through, boots heavy with mud, breathing deep and steady. They submitted short reports, exchanged a few necessary words with the supervisor, then disappeared down the corridor leading to the rest area. No one lingered longer than required.
The reinforcement zone slowly emptied.
In the end, only two people remained.
He stood by the tool rack, inventory list in hand, checking the metal crates stacked along the Wall. This task normally belonged to Old Hoob, but with the old man absent, the end-of-shift arrangement had been temporarily assigned to him and another Awakened.
The other man clearly had no patience.
He dragged a crate closer to the wall and tied it down carelessly. His movements were quick, but sloppy. His eyes kept drifting toward the open area where rain struck the stone, splashing low arcs of water.
"Good enough," the man muttered, voice dull. "Whatever's left, we'll finish tomorrow. No one's going to notice."
He didn't wait for a reply. Just brushed off his hands, threw on his coat, and walked off quickly. His footsteps echoed for a few beats before the rain swallowed them whole.
He watched him go for a moment, then turned back to the unfinished crates.
No one was waiting for him anyway. Staying a little longer didn't matter. The rain was heavy.
There was no reason to rush.
He pulled the remaining two crates under the edge of the shelter, stacking them closer together to keep the rain from hitting them directly. The cold metal seeped through his gloves, familiar enough that he barely registered it. Rain fell steadily, water striking stone and steel, blending into a constant, unchanging background sound.
Then something else cut through it.
CLANG.
Metal lightly struck stone. A short rolling sound.
Then silence.
He lifted his head.
At the edge of the reinforcement zone, one of the tool crates had tipped sharply to one side. Its lid had popped open. A few items had slid onto the wet stone, scattered across the ground.
That spot wasn't exposed to strong wind. There wasn't enough flowing water to push something that heavy over.
He stood still.
The distance from there to where the Awakened had turned the corner wasn't far. But the sound just now hadn't been footsteps. It hadn't sounded like something drifting on its own, either.
He stepped out from under the shelter.
Rain hit his face, colder and heavier than he expected. The lighting in that area was weaker, blocked partially by the body of the Wall and the overlapping reinforcement layers. It took a few seconds for his eyes to adjust.
The lazy Awakened lay near the base of the Wall, his body dragged slightly from where he had last stood. Part of his back and shoulder no longer touched the ground. Blood flowed out, mixing with rainwater into dark streaks that spread slowly across the stone.
There was something else on top of him.
The creature was shorter than an adult human, its back bent sharply. It didn't stand fully upright. When it lowered itself, the ridge of its spine pushed outward, limbs tucked tightly against its body, giving it a compact but distorted shape—like something compressed by a giant hand, always ready to shift direction in an instant. It was hard to name what it resembled.
Grrrr…
Its jaws held onto the man's body.
There was no struggle. No screaming. The Awakened no longer reacted. The creature simply continued its motion, steady and focused, as if completing a task rather than hunting.
He stood a few steps away.
His body was tense, but not out of control. His heart pounded. His breathing shortened. But his mind hadn't gone blank. Scattered thoughts surfaced and dissolved just as quickly, never forming into a clear reflex or decision.
Growing up in the orphanage, surrounded by the outer-district residents since he was small, death had never been something distant to kids like him.
But this was the first time he had witnessed it from this close.
A few minutes ago, the man had been standing there, complaining about the rain before leaving early. The gap between those two images was too short for him to attach any meaning to it beyond the simple fact of what was happening now.
The creature didn't turn its head.
It didn't look at him. Or perhaps it simply didn't need to yet.
Rain fell against its curved back and slid down in thin streams. There was no sign that it would leave soon. No sign that it had noticed his presence.
He didn't step back.
He didn't step forward.
He stood there, in the half-finished reinforcement zone, among the tool crates not yet fully secured—work that had been one small step away from completion.
Rain continued to fall.
The Wall still loomed behind him, just as it did every day.
And the shift, in a certain sense, had not truly ended.