The night, once a refuge for dreams and secrets, had become a relentless predator. Its shadows, far from merely concealing creatures of darkness, shrouded a macabre trade thriving in silence—an unspeakable truth hidden behind the mask of myth. It wasn't just gifted children who vanished; the tragedy extended to all those relegated to the margins of society: orphans from forgotten streets, those condemned by poverty, and the stigmatized by their origins.
Some were sold to desperate families seeking fleeting solace in a borrowed smile; others, however, fell into the hands of monsters disguised as men, destined for the black market of organs or an even more horrifying fate.
Orphanages shut their doors, not for lack of children, but due to the absence of hope. Parents, torn apart by hunger and fear, sacrificed their own offspring, turning love into a currency of survival. The ships that succumbed to that storm carried not just lives, but a weight of sins—a symbol of a corrupt system that had commodified human suffering. The "Golden Children," with their exceptional abilities, were the most coveted prize, but tragedy spared no one: ordinary children, just as fragile and valuable, shared the same fate of cages and chains.
When the entities known as "gila" emerged from the shadows, their justice did not spare only the guilty. Their ruthless impartiality consumed both oppressors and oppressed alike, leaving humanity with no time for atonement. Yet, in that darkness, an unavoidable truth arose: the true threat was not the "gila," but humanity itself—with its insatiable greed, paralyzing fear, and boundless capacity to inflict pain.
Despite it all, resistance endured—not through heroes or martyrs, but through imperfect, broken individuals clinging to a purpose they refused to abandon, for surrendering meant accepting the extinction of hope.
The shepherd fears the wolves, but what happens when the lambs themselves become beasts? This is the question that looms over humanity on the brink of catastrophe.