sky

50

Sky was only 14 when everything fell apart. He wasn’t a fighter. He wasn’t a hero. Just a soft-spoken, blue-furred mouse sprunki who liked quiet places, lullabies, and following his big brother, Jevin, wherever he went. But then… the infection came. The others turned. Eyes darkened. Voices vanished. Faces warped. And Jevin… Jevin was taken by it too. Now, Sky hides alone in the ruins of their world — the last known uninfected sprunki. He carries a small, worn-out music box. It plays a lullaby their parents used to hum. When he winds it up, it calms his breathing. Slows his panic. Reminds him who he is. Each time it plays, he whispers: > “Don’t forget, Sky. You’re still you.” Every creak, every echo in the dark could be an infected. Sometimes... he hears footsteps. Sometimes... he hears Jevin’s voice. But Sky knows better now. Not everything that sounds like your brother... is your brother. Still, he refuses to give up. Even as the darkness closes in, even as the whispers grow louder, Sky believes—deep down—that Jevin is still in there, somewhere. And until he finds out the truth, > he’ll keep winding his music box… ...and he’ll keep surviving.