Somewhere in Gram, a small burger stall stood, with three customers sitting patiently on worn chairs, waiting for their orders.
Behind the stall, a man hummed his favorite tune as he watched the patties on the grill, waiting for them to cook. Five patties sizzled alongside toasted buns.
After a moment, he flipped the patties with practiced ease and slid the bread to the side. He layered salad and onion, sprayed sauce, placed the patty, added tomato and cucumber slices, and finished it off with the rounded top bun.
In a few swift movements, he wrapped the burgers and handed them over. The customers paid, and he accepted the money with an easy smile.
He kept going, serving one after another, his humming blending with the rhythmic scrape of his spatula flipping the patties, his hands moving fluidly, almost like a dance.
"Thank you, come again," he said, handing a girl her order with a smile.
"Yeah," she muttered, barely glancing up from her phone. She took her food, paid, and walked away, leaving behind a faint trace of rudeness in the air.
"People nowadays..." the burger man muttered under his breath. He turned down the heat and checked his supplies, inspecting the vegetables.
Just then, a man in a business suit approached the stall, clearing his throat to get his attention.
"How's business?" the suited man asked, glancing over the menu.
"The usual," the burger man replied calmly.
"I still can't believe you're sticking with this. Thought you were just bored." The man smiled faintly. "Right, lamb burger, please."
The burger man opened an orange box, pulling out a bag of patties. Cold smoke rose from it as he placed one on the grill, then sealed the bag and closed the box.
"It's fun," he said simply, adjusting the stove to raise the heat. He added butter to the grill; it melted instantly with a loud hiss, smoke swirling upward.
The suited man chuckled. "That's a surprise—especially coming from you."
The burger man gave him a sidelong glance, voice low, almost amused. "Is it weird?"
"Maybe... not for you." The other man looked away, a flicker of unease crossing his face.
"So," the burger man said, "what brings you here, Wo?"
Wo straightened slightly, as if remembering. "I'm here to tell you something."
"Speak."
"Sunny has found out about the massacre." Wo's voice was heavy with meaning.
The burger man paused, then smiled. "About time he did."
"What? Aren't you worried?" Wo's frown deepened, realization dawning slower than it should. "You're fine with this?"
The burger man flipped the patty, a sharp sizzle breaking the tension.
"I've been waiting for this," he said.
"He's going to destroy you if you let him do as he pleases, Zeppelin. Are you really okay with that?"
"Rather," Zeppelin said, halting his work to look to his left, where his last customer had vanished moments ago, "I *want* him to."
A distant, agonizing shriek tore through the air, then faded into silence.
Wo turned sharply, frowning. "Was that your doing?"
"Clean up the corpse, would you?"
"What did she do?"
"Exploited her workers, blackmailed them, forced them into unpaid overtime until they killed themselves," Zeppelin said matter-of-factly.
Wo's brows furrowed. "Why do you even care?"
"It was a request. And besides," Zeppelin said, flipping the patty again, revealing its golden-brown surface, "it's nice to remove a few monsters hiding in human skin."
"With burgers?" Wo asked dryly.
"With burgers," Zeppelin confirmed, flipping the bread next and setting it aside. He assembled the vegetables methodically.
"I never understand how your powers work," Wo sighed.
"Exactly as I want it," Zeppelin said, wrapping the burger neatly and handing it over in a plastic bag.
"Thanks."
"You're welcome." Zeppelin paused, then added, "About Sunny—let him do as he pleases. Don't interfere. Just complete your mission."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes. You should be more concerned about yourself. How's your progress?"
"It's going smoothly. I retrieved the device and handed it to the Priest."
"You took the roundabout way to get it. Was it worth it?" Zeppelin asked, already knowing the answer.
Wo nodded. "Yes. As long as it ends this war."
Zeppelin's hands moved steadily as he turned off the stove, peeled a cucumber, and grated it into thin, neat strips.
"My power could easily wipe them out and let humanity reclaim the surface. But have you ever wondered why we're forced to live underground? Sure, some survive on the surface, but one mistake means death."
"Isn't it because the creatures want to take over the planet?" Wo replied, though there was a thread of doubt in his voice—as if he had repeated the answer so often, even he no longer believed it.
"Think about it. Their sheer numbers and strength could wipe us out completely. Yet..." Zeppelin wiped his hands clean. "Have you noticed? They never set foot inside this city."
"Maybe because the Divine Tree protects us?"
"The Tree only grants power. Shadows survive everywhere—underground, in the sea, the mountains, even in space. So why haven't they attacked this city? The nearest nest is just fifteen kilometers away. Doesn't that strike you as odd?"
Wo fell silent, thinking hard. Eventually, he shook his head.
"I heard intelligent shadows are already here, planning an attack," he said weakly.
"I know," Zeppelin replied. "But why now? Why not years ago?"
Wo frowned. "Zeppelin, what have you discovered?"
"Something you shouldn't know," Zeppelin said, his voice unreadable. "Sometimes I envy you, Wo—you're not cursed with knowledge."
"Cut the crap! Tell me what you know!"
"Does it matter now?" Zeppelin said with a faint smile. "We're about to wipe them out once and for all. Oh—right. I almost forgot."
He leaned back, voice light.
"It won't be *me* who does it."