The first light of morning was seeping between the stone houses of the small town. Eren was sitting silently at the old wooden table in their home.

In front of him was a half-eaten piece of bread and a bowl of soup that had gone cold.

His head slightly bowed, he was turning the spoon in his hand.

Eren had a deeply developed sense of empathy; people’s cold demeanor and lack of enthusiasm always felt strange to him.

It was as if he was trapped in a world without emotions.

“How the day begins doesn’t matter—what matters is how you finish it,” he thought to himself.

In the kitchen, his mother stood with her back turned, a wooden spoon in her hand, stirring something over the stove.

But she hadn’t looked at Eren even once.

“Eat it before it gets cold,” she said.

Her voice was tired; to Eren, it always seemed to lack love.

Eren lifted his head.

With a gentle expression, he said, “Okey.”

He took a small sip of the soup, then his eyes shifted to the window.

There was a bit of commotion outside.

Mücella was walking.

Her steps were light, and she wore a smile that could make the morning light jealous.

Eren felt a gentle warmth inside at that moment.

But it was an unusual warmth,

because in this town, people usually looked but didn’t see, heard but didn’t feel.

“Today... maybe I can make a small difference,” he thought to himself.

He slung his bag over his shoulder and headed to the door.

The door creaked open. Creak.

Without looking back, Eren stepped outside.

The cool morning air brushed against his face.

“Good morning, Eren!”

When he lifted his head, he saw Mücella walking toward him.

Her smile wasn’t just on her face—it was in her presence.

Not only her lips, but her eyes were smiling too.

The simple dress she wore fluttered lightly in the morning breeze.

A soft smile appeared on Eren’s face.

“Good morning, Mücella,” he said.

“Shall we walk to school together again today?”

When Mücella spoke, one couldn’t help but want to be near her.

“Sure,” Mücella replied.

They began walking side by side.

The sound of their footsteps echoed on the stone-paved streets. Tap tap tap.

They walked in silence for a while.

Mücella turned her head.

“Walking with you… is calming,” she said.

Her voice was slightly shy, but sincere.

Eren smiled.

“I feel light when I’m with you too,” he said.

What passed between them wasn’t just words.

When Eren’s eyes met hers, even for that brief moment, he felt something shift.

It was as if the only real thing in this town was this walk.

When they arrived at school, the classroom wasn’t full yet.

Eren and Mücella entered together.

Eren chose a seat near the back, and Mücella sat beside him.

“Is your pencil tip holding up today?” Mücella asked.

Her voice was soft, but held genuine curiosity.

Eren examined his pencil and nodded.

“I warmed it a bit next to the stove this morning. It softened. Hope it doesn’t fall apart.”

Mücella smiled.

“Your methods are strange, but they work.”

Just then, the door opened.

There was a brief pause in the classroom.

As footsteps moved toward the blackboard, a hush spread.

Mert walked in.

His vest was spotless, his hair neatly combed. Mert was from one of the town’s noble families.

There was a confident look in his eyes, and a measured grace in his steps.

His gaze wandered around the classroom.

He saw Mücella, then noticed Eren.

He watched them sitting side by side for a few seconds.

Without saying a word, he sat at a nearby desk.

A moment later, he leaned slightly toward Mücella.

“Would you like to go for a walk after class today?” he asked.

Mücella answered without lifting her eyes from her paper.

“Not today. Eren and I are going to review some notes,” she said, gently turning down his offer.

“I see,” Mert said, without a change in his tone.

He opened his notebook and began writing without another word.

After class, the weather had warmed up a bit.

As the room slowly emptied, Eren slung his bag over his shoulder.

He gave Mücella a brief nod goodbye; she returned it with a small tilt of her head.

He eagerly walked toward the person whose company he enjoyed most—his grandfather.

He climbed the slope.

At the edge of a small hill, he reached the stone-walled house.

The shade of the mulberry tree stretched across the stone courtyard.

And in that shade, leaning on his cane, sat his grandfather.

His head was slightly bowed, eyes closed.

His breathing was heavy, but calm.

Eren stepped closer and stood in front of him.

“Napping in broad daylight, old hawk?” he said playfully.

The warmth in his voice left a smile on the corner of his lips.

Grandfather furrowed his brow but replied without opening his eyes:

“You see two mulberry leaves and think you’re a sage already, little rat.”

Eren smiled and sat beside him.

He leaned his back against the trunk of the mulberry tree.

“What can I do? Pacing around the courtyard from morning till night just isn’t for me.”

His eyes were on the sky.

Grandfather chuckled.

“Just wait. By the time you’re seventy, the shade of this mulberry tree will be the most beautiful place in the world.”

Eren looked up at the branches.

The sunlight filtering through the leaves dazzled his eyes.

“By the time I reach that age, the world will have changed, Grandpa.

Maybe by then, we’ll be growing something else instead of mulberries.”

Grandfather opened his eyes slightly, his voice tired but gentle:

“What will you grow? A crown for your head, or a burden for your heart?”

Eren plucked a mulberry leaf and turned it in his palm.

“I don’t know... Maybe both.”

They didn’t speak for a while.

Only the rustling of the leaves filled the courtyard.

Grandfather dug the tip of his cane into the ground.

“This soil… it grows whatever you plant.

Good or bad.

What matters is not forgetting what you’ve sown.”

Eren nodded.

“In your eyes, I’ll take root here too, won’t I?”

Grandfather tapped Eren’s knee gently with his cane.

“Someone like you doesn’t take root, son. You chase the wind.

But remember—no matter where you fly, this courtyard’s soil will always carry your scent.”

Eren looked at his grandfather.

Something stirred inside him, but he couldn’t name it.

“Alright then,” said Grandfather, getting up slowly.

“You always say you can outrun me. Let’s see.

Take a lap around the mulberry tree and show me—are you still a child or becoming a man?”

Eren raised his eyebrows and smiled.

“Get ready, old wolf. I’m about to show you how much I’ve grown.”

He started running.

His grandfather leaned on his cane, watching him with eyes that glistened slightly.

When Eren finished the lap around the tree, his breathing was a little faster.

He walked back and stood before his grandfather.

“What do you say now? Am I still a child?”

There was both a joke and a longing for approval in his smile.

Grandfather nodded and straightened a bit.

“You can run, but your heart is still learning to walk.

And that’s a good thing.”

Eren said nothing.

He just lowered his head, then pulled himself together.

“I should go. If I’m late, my mom will scold me.”

Grandfather raised his hand but said nothing.

His eyes stayed on Eren as he walked away.

Slowly, he leaned back into the shade of the mulberry tree again.

The stone streets of the town had begun to gather the evening chill.

When Eren arrived home, familiar sounds rose from inside.

As he opened the door, the smell of coal greeted him.

His mother’s voice echoed from the kitchen:

“Another month and you still haven’t brought anything useful!”

His father sat in the room with his head bowed.

It was as if he didn’t hear the voices—or heard them and chose to ignore them.

Eren quietly set his bag aside.

But this time, his mother turned her gaze to him.

“You’re just like your father!

Will I ever see you actually accomplish something?”

Eren didn’t respond.

He stood silently, not averting his gaze.

Then, without a word, he picked up his bag again and opened the door.

He closed it quietly behind him.

As he stepped outside, he felt a little lighter.

Darkness was falling.

He didn’t need to think about where to go.

At times like this,

he always headed that way.

He walked through the narrow stone streets.

When he turned the corner, he saw him sitting in his usual spot—

on top of the stone wall, one leg swinging.

Despite being an orphan, Yaman’s joy for life and cheerful spirit always impressed Eren.

Yaman was Eren’s closest friend and confidant.

The tension on Eren’s face began to ease.

Yaman noticed him.

A small smirk appeared on the corner of his lips.

“Let me guess—your mom again?”

Eren said nothing.

He just climbed onto the wall and sat next to him.

He shrugged, then lowered his head slightly.

Yaman tilted his head and looked at him.

“That’s when freedom matters,” he said.

“No one can tell you what to do or who to be.

You live as you want, follow your own wind.”

Eren looked down and smiled faintly.

He dangled his legs over the edge and gently tapped his heels against the stone wall.

“In the end… she’s still my mom,” he said.

Yaman was silent for a moment.

Then he shrugged and looked up at the sky.

“Well then,” he said with a barely noticeable smile on his lips.

“Maybe… having someone waiting for you isn’t such a bad thing after all.”

The chill of the night was settling in.

A light mist began to drift over the town.

The two boys sat side by side on the wall, not speaking for a long time.

Then Yaman looked up.

His eyes searched the sky, then he pointed.

“Look!”

His voice lifted slightly.

“A comet!”

Eren looked up too.

A bright light streaked across the sky, leaving behind a pale tail.

Yaman nudged Eren’s arm with his elbow.

“Come on, make a wish,” he said, grinning slightly.

Eren smiled softly.

He closed his eyes behind the light of the star.

He made a wish he would never tell anyone.

“I wish…” he thought, “I could fill the emptiness inside people.”

Yaman narrowed his eyes, watching the sky until the comet disappeared.

They didn’t share their wishes.

The star vanished beyond the horizon.

But at that moment...

a faint green flash lit up the sky.

Yaman burst out laughing, his voice echoing off the stone walls.

“Whatever I wished for…

even the star couldn’t handle it!”

Eren smiled faintly.

And then, suddenly—

BOOOOOOOOOOOM!

A terrifying explosion echoed over the town.

The stone wall trembled, and the birds in the air scattered in panic.

Eren and Yaman instinctively ducked their heads.

When they looked up again, the sky had begun to change.

Clouds darkened toward black, slowly turning a mossy green.

A thick green mist began to spread slowly over the town.

The mist crept through the streets, silently covering everything.

From between the green-tinged clouds, bursts of light occasionally shot out,

cascading down to the earth in waves.

Eren inhaled silently.

A strange, metallic scent drifted through the air.

Yaman squinted, his expression filled with awe as he watched the sky.

They both knew now:

Tonight, the world would never be the same again.