The boy scans the corridor frantically. 

He notices a vent close by on the floor. 

His gaze darts up the stairs before drifting over towards it.

The narrow metal walls surround him. 

He races down the vent, quickly reaching a dead end. 

“Oh no! How do I…” 

He tilts his head.

The vent continues upward before turning again.

“But…” He glances back to see the boot of the red-haired man before shifting his attention upwards. “...I can’t fly…” 

The man kneels by the vent, peering into it.

He squints before pulling himself up.

“Find me a jar.”

His voice is calm.

“Yessir.” Another man says before rushing off.

The boy’s heart pounds. “...A Jar…” His eyes return to the opening above.

…

“No choice…” 

His body of fog begins to swirl, shift, and expand into the shape of a young boy, a little too big to fit comfortably in the narrow vent.

He rises onto his toes, straining for the next level of the vent. 

“...I can’t…” He mutters quietly, holding his breath.

His fingertips miss it by inches.

He stretches higher.

His fingertips scrape empty air.

Again.

Nothing.

“I can’t…”

He stares at the opening above as tears fill his eyes.

He slides his back onto the cold metal floor.

A chill seeps through him.

He wraps his arms around himself.

He glances at the entrance.

The red-haired man's yellow eyes stare back at him.

“I found it, Captain.” The man returns.

The red-haired man does not move or take his eyes off the child that sits where the fog spirit was just moments ago.

…

“Sir?”

“...”

“S-sir?”

“... What do you know about fog spirits?” He asks quietly.

“Nothing much, sir. Why?”

The Captain's eyes stay fixed on the boy as he takes the jar from the man.

“Leave me, I will be there in a moment.”

“Yes… Yessir.” He salutes and promptly leaves.

The Captain sits the jar in front of him on the floor.

The boy flinches as the jar comes into view.

…

“Hello?”

The Captain’s voice echoes through the vent.

…

The boy stays perfectly still.

His stomach twists.

His mother's warnings echo in his mind...

Now the man knows… 

…

And he is just staring at him…

The Captain lets out a breath. 

As far as he knows, every book describes fog spirits as unintelligent, slow, and little more than living mist.

The Captain remains silent.

But this…

…

This is a child.