He hadn’t planned to stop.

Just another cracked building in the shadow of the city… but something about it tugged at Touma’s gut. It felt off. Wrong in a way he couldn’t explain.

He stepped inside.

Dust hung in the air like fog, the silence almost thick enough to choke on. No signs of life. Just a narrow hallway and a door barely hanging on its hinges.

He pushed it open.

And there, in the center of the dim room, sat a figure. Tied to a chair. Blindfolded. Gagged. Headphones pressed tight over their ears. A thin tube snaked from their arm to an artificial nutrition—keeping them alive.

Touma’s breath caught.

What kind of person would do this?

He crossed the room in seconds, kneeling beside them. His fingers moved quickly—headphones off first. Then the blindfold. Their lashes fluttered, eyes slow to react.

“You’re safe now,” he said softly, more to fill the silence than anything else.

Carefully, he reached behind their head to undo the gag. A moment later he was already working on the restraints when their body slumped forward—and he caught them just in time.

“I’ve got you.”