The boy was startled awake from the coma.

It took a few seconds for him to remember where he was and what had happened.

Although he breathed a sigh of relief, his whole body became stiff from not moving all night long. The whole body here is including the head, when the boy suddenly realizes that it is impossible to rotate it even a little to be able to look around. After a brief moment of gazing at the gray sky and relaxing his body, the boy was finally able to move but almost fell from being too relaxed. With the slanted surface of the roof, it took a while before he could sit up, still holding one hand for support. The boy's body was extremely painful, it felt like he was bruised all over his body, everywhere was like he was on strike, draining the little remaining strength. Holding his hand to prevent himself from falling now is also became exhausting as his breathing gradually became heavier, especially when the cold dry wind kept blowing through this sluggish body.

Rubbing his eyes with both hands, rubbing his face and stroking his dark hair in search of sanity, he winced as he felt a sharp pain under his chin. It was a rather long streak of dried blood, not very large, across the bottom of the face, right at the jaw.
It seemed that last night's slip was quite strong, so now he could feel the pain even when he just opening the mouth. The boy took a deep breath of air, then let out a long sigh.
Suddenly, he realized that something is not right today. Little light flickered from the roads both near and far. The streets today are not the same color as the gray sky, but are bright, like the torches of the night before. Thinking of that, the boy suddenly shivered, a cold feeling came when the chilly wind blew.

Is that the criminals still searching for him?

They haven't given up yet?

What prompted them to chase this helpless small body all night long?

Where will my fate go?

The poor young kid's head was filled with countless questions right now, and the more he asked, the more negative emotions he had, as if waiting to explode.
But, a new question cleared that grayish cloud.

"Or are they not looking for me, but someone, . . . Or something else?"

"Last night the moon was bright, but the one who discovered me still haven't see the face. . . "

"They chased for so long, they probably gave up a long time ago. . ."

"Who would use all their resources to capture a useless stunted kid just because of a drunk guy..."

The more he thought about it, the more he felt secure, as the heavy rock on his shoulder was slowly being lifted by his own rational reasoning. However, speculation is still speculation. Unable to be certain of anything, the boy decided to take a look at the place that radiated the warm light. He gently pressed his body against the old wooden planks, making gurgling, wet sounds. The whole body seemed to tilt to the side, making the movement difficult. Little by little, slowly moving forward. As he neared the edge of the roof, the boy took a breath, then leaned forward and looked down the road.
His eyes were met with a scene he had never seen before. Torches, many bright torches, were lined up in rows on glistening silver stands, attached to the old crumbling walls. In the light of that torch were two men in silver armor, each with a sword at their waist, and talking.
A short distance away there were two more people with similar outfits. The boy was now extremely curious about what was happening in front of him, as if he hadn't been so curious since the discovery of the frog species "Frouye". But that curiosity gradually turned to suspicion and fear as he noticed where the knights standing. . .

Not a single homeless person around!

At first he didn't worry too much, because they were usually cowards, afraid of everything, so it wasn't difficult for them to run away like rats from these big and proud people. .
The only confusing thing here is the sound!

The area around was unusually silent, only the sound of the wind whistling in his ears. Besides those weaklings, we still have criminals and a bunch of normal people, they won't notice the knights and run away but will act like a "human".

Or at least a little riot caused by the drunks. . .

. . .But NO!

There was absolutely no sound other than the cold wind, gently swaying the torches under the gray morning sky. As everyone knows, people will always be afraid of things they can't explain, and the same goes for our little guy. The boy's heart rate was getting faster and faster, his breathing was quick as his speculations about the homeless people grew more and more negative.

Arrested? Locked up? Or do they just simply run away?

Questions kept swirling around in his head, humming like annoying flies. While he was immersed in his own deductions, he suddenly saw a knight hurrying to the spot in front of him, where two other knights were chatting. The other seemed to be in a hurry, so after exchanging a few sentences, all three ran off together, heading straight for the square.
Seeing this, the boy didn't understand what it was, but since it was a good time to climb down, he slowly crept back to the huge hole in the roof, the path he had climbed to get up here.
After "quickly" climbing down the wooden crates, carefully so as not to get a second bruise, the boy limped from the still unrelenting pain all over his body and reached the door. His right hand gently touched the rough wooden doorknob, the cold made him shiver slightly.
Opening the door, the first thing he did was peer through the small gap to determine if anyone was outside. After noticing that there was nobody nearby, the boy pushed open the door, poked his head out, looked back and forth, then ran away. He ran in the opposite direction of the knights, straight to the edge of town. Thinking that if possible, he should avoid encountering those people, when he still did not know what happened to the homeless people even though he had passed many alleys big and small. The young boy kept running on the big road with many torches without turning anywhere.
It felt so strange, a bright street where he could see his shadow in the daytime, different from before. when you can only see it on a moonlit weekend. Now the shadow was imprinted on the ground again and accompanied him. The light at this time also gave him a sense of insecurity, when he was no longer covered by the gray sky, he seemed to be stripped naked and seen through, easily caught or discovered.

A mixture of suspense, fear and a little timidity.

While running, an unpleasant feeling suddenly passed, causing the boy to quickly speed up, straight into the nearest alley.
It was his hunch, his sixth sense, which had saved him many times, from jostling, fighting for food or hiding, running away from criminals. And today, it seems that this sense of his has saved him another life. Without it, he would have been captured by men in silver armor who were rushing towards the square. Hiding behind a wooden crate and peering through the cracks, the boy's eyes suddenly widened, and then flashed a mixture of surprise and fear. In front of him were large, tethered four-legged animals that were pulling a cage with an knight sitting on it. The car was full of corpses piled up with a fishy smell, blood seemed to flow in small streams down the road, staining the ground where the car passed. Among them were all men and women, young and old, all of them had a look of horror, their mouths were open, showing white, razor teeth. That scene seemed too much for a twelve-year-old boy, so he immediately turned around and collapsed to the ground vomiting.

The boy felt his mouth was bitter and sour. He used his tongue to collect the saliva in his mouth to reduce it, and then spat it to the side. Wiping his mouth with hand, the boy fell to his knees tired from vomiting. He knew that now wasn't the time to rest, he wasn't safe yet. Even though he didn't know what the hell was going on, he needed to hide.

But,. . . Where could he hide now?

The roads are full of bright torches. The people in armor were walking around. If caught, will he be able to save his life? Or will death hold his cold scythe to his neck like it did to the people on the car just now???
Neither going forward nor backward, the young man finally decided to move forward. If going back is dead, going forward is dead, then it is better to go forward, at least there is a little chance of living on. Stepping past his vomit and out into the alley, the boy carefully checked his surroundings again. Seeing that there was nothing new but a red streak extending all the way, he quickly got out and ran straight. The boy ran and ran, running under the torchlight, along the old wooden houses. He turned left and right multiple times, sometimes hiding in alleys, and then continued walking.

After a period of moving, houses on both sides of the road are also sparse. Particularly the number of people wearing armor increased with iron frames piled up everywhere. Sometimes, he could even hear someone's low-pitched scream breaking the tension, making him almost had a heart-attack. However, somehow, our little guy was able to magically reach the edge of town. Where countless soldiers and knights are guarding. After going all the way through the dirt road and the trail to cross the dead forest, he felt the gentle breeze brush through his dusty hair.

Entering the boy's eyes was a vast land of ash.
Standing high, everything was in his sight, from camps with large tents, strange creatures never seen before, soldiers and knights everywhere or large steel cages. . .

All of them combine to reach the purple sand in the distance, where the giant "river" is cutting across the sky.
And also on that "river", the boy saw his way out,. . .

. . .a STONE BRIDGE.

A wide bridge, built of stacked gray blocks overgrown with black, cracked vines. Stretching from the purple sand to as far as the eye can see, to the border between the sky and the water.
The boy took a deep breath, feeling the salty taste through the wind, although the scene was still murky with the gray sky, but the taste is so fresh that he had never felt before. It made the boy forget his purpose for a moment and immerse himself in that refreshing feeling. However, just for a moment, the boy quickly woke up and returned to reality. He needed to run away from here. Sitting behind a dark dry tree, our young man began to think. He grimaced, patted his head, drew his hands on the ground, looked at the camps every once in a while, and then continued to ponder. Contrary to his best efforts, whether his hair was messy or the ground was scribbled, he still couldn't come up with any ideas to run away. The helplessness and fatigue seemed to weigh on his small shoulders.

-Will I be able to escape if I just sit here?

-They won't check this place out anyway?

-No, I will be captured, and will suffer the same fate as those miserable people,. . .

While he was in his autobiography, he suddenly felt his eyes blur and shake. . And when he blinked, he could feel something hot rolling down his cheek. Like rain, but not cold, , it kinda warm instead.
He gently raised his hand to touch his face. It was wet, with a little moisture remaining on the fingertips. The young teenager doesn't know what this is, but we do.

It's called tears. . .

. . .And he is crying.