Military boots and tank treads crunched over the cracked streets, a sound that had gradually become part of daily life in the settlement zone. The clattering noise was no longer strange, and the drones flying overhead, far above us, were far less obtrusive than the ones that used to hover right over our heads. Perhaps, given enough time, people could adapt to almost anything.

Almost anything.

“Herbivores, get out!” an angry mob protested in front of the Federation’s settlement office, hurling stones at the armored vehicles and soldiers stationed at the entrance.

Normally, Ali and I would have stayed far away from such situations—there was nothing to gain from a direct confrontation. But after the Federation had unexpectedly demolished half the homes in our neighborhood, leaving many of our people homeless, the question of whether there was anything to gain was no longer our primary concern.

Honestly, I no longer knew if I could still feel anger or who I was even angry at. I glanced at the grayish-white stone in my hand, then looked up, focusing on the bored, yawning antelopes protected by the armored vehicles.

That look on their faces, the look of someone who didn’t even understand why they were here, pierced me in some inexplicable way.

Why? Why do you have to take away even the little we have left? All we want is to find a place where we belong!

I had never felt such rage before. Usually, I was numb, accepting everything as it was because I had no other choice. That numbness had been with me as long as I could remember, a helpless resignation. But now, I wanted them to know what it felt like! I wanted them to understand what pain was!

Clinging to that desperate illusion, I threw the stone in my hand. As if that would somehow vent all my frustration, as if it would right all the wrongs in the world.

The moment the stone left my hand, the harsh reality of my own pathetic situation hit me, and tears welled up in my eyes.

Then, a deafening explosion rang out. The world erupted.

I was thrown to the ground along with those nearby, the air filled with panicked screams and the sound of people fleeing. In the swirling dust and chaos, Ali found me, anxiously checking if I was hurt, but the shock had left me too stunned to do anything but sit there, wide-eyed.

I tried to get up, thinking we should get as far away from the danger as possible, but suddenly, a pulse from the collar around my neck sent a wave of excruciating pain through my body, making me convulse uncontrollably. My vision went white, and I collapsed, paralyzed. The herbivores had activated the shock collars.

“Look at that, I caught a little terrorist!” When I came to, I found myself and Ali pinned to the ground by uniformed antelopes, unable to move.

“Where are your accomplices?” the one holding me shouted in my ear, twisting my arm violently. He twisted it harder when he didn’t get the answer he wanted, increasing the pressure.

“Ah!” I screamed in pain as my arm snapped with a sharp crack. The antelope who had broken my arm seemed to take this as some kind of encouragement and stomped on my back.

Ali, beside me, struggled to do something, but the antelope holding him shoved his head down into the dirt.

“Stop it, both of you.” A new voice, calm and authoritative, cut through the chaos.

Suddenly, we were released. Ali helped me up, glancing at my limp arm, clearly at a loss for what to do. I didn’t know what to do either. All I could do was muster all my willpower to blink away the tears, refusing to cry in front of the herbivores.

“Sir, these are suspects in a terrorist attack,” one of the antelopes said, looking at me with a threatening glare.

“You’ve got to be kidding. An eight-year-old and a teenager?” The third antelope, who had just arrived, glanced at his terminal, probably reading the data from our collars. “This isn’t the first time headquarters has issued us faulty equipment. We’re lucky no one was hurt. The active reactive armor triggered itself, causing the explosion. Let’s not make this any worse.”

“But…” The other two antelopes started to argue, speaking at the same time.

“I said, let’s not make this any worse.” The third antelope repeated, and the others immediately fell silent.

“Yes, Lieutenant.” They stiffly saluted him before turning and heading back to the office entrance. Aside from their strange posture and movements, I could have sworn I saw the lieutenant’s eyes flash red for a moment, and there was a sharp resonance in the air.

“You two should head home, while I can still control the situation.” The antelope stepped in front of us, looking us over. The swirling dust still hung in the air around us.

I stared into his eyes. They were the usual brown common among herbivores, nothing special. Was it just a trick of the light?

“I’m sorry for your… trouble,” he said, glancing at my broken arm and searching his pockets. “Make sure you set the bone before you use this, or it won’t be a pleasant experience to break and reset it.” He handed me a syringe with a red cross symbol on it.

“We don’t want charity from the Federation,” Ali growled through clenched teeth, baring his teeth at the antelope. I could see his hands trembling with the force of his clenched fists.

Very rarely, we would see this kind of thing, usually in the possession of some highly suspicious merchants who had their ways of acquiring Federation supplies. A single dose of nano-regenerative gel could achieve near-miraculous healing, said to be able to save you as long as you weren’t dead yet. Given the constant accidents and injuries in the settlement zone, the town had pooled enough resources to trade for a few doses, which were stored in the only thing resembling a clinic.

So far, there hadn’t been an incident serious enough to warrant using them, which might have been a good thing in its own way.

“It’s not charity,” the antelope tilted his head, thinking for a few seconds. “It’s compensation.”

Ali finally couldn’t hold back and reached out to take the syringe, but the antelope stopped him. When Ali bared his teeth, ready to snarl, the antelope pointed at me and began to explain.

“The nanobots in the gel must bind with the user’s genes under authorized conditions for it to work,” he said, gently taking my uninjured hand and placing it on the red cross of the injector. “Otherwise, it’s just a very fancy placebo.”

The impact of his words was so strong that I couldn’t focus on anything else. Ali and I exchanged a glance, and I saw the anger twisting his face.

I wanted to comfort him, but suddenly, I felt it—something cold and prickly crawling up my arm, moving toward my heart.

I turned back to the antelope, catching a flash of red in his eyes. I forced down my panic, maintaining a calm exterior. I didn’t know what the antelope was planning or what he was doing, but I knew I couldn’t trust the herbivores.

“Hide.” A distant voice whispered in the depths of my mind. “Lower your body, hold your breath, don’t listen, don’t look.” I followed the voice’s advice and concealed myself. “I’ll be back soon.” I recognized the voice, but I couldn’t place it in my memory.

“All done.” The antelope stood up, looking somewhat puzzled. He glanced me over once more from head to toe. “Make sure the bone is set before you use it,” he reminded me again before turning and walking away.

As the dust and debris began to settle, Ali grabbed my hand, and without looking back, we ran toward the nearest underground passage.