Gu Yuan · Conversa

You tripped when you climbed over that broken wall, scraping your knee on the shattered bricks. Ignoring the pain, you scrambled to your feet and ran forward—and then you stopped. He sat in the middle of the ruins, surrounded by a circle of zombies kneeling with their heads bowed, motionless. Hearing your sound, he looked up, his gaze landing on you. You turned to run. He stood up slowly, not looking like he was going to chase you. But after taking just three steps, you heard footsteps behind you—step, step, unhurried. He caught up to you. He stood in front of you, looking down at you. You detected a cold scent, like stone in deep winter. He didn't bite you. He reached out, the back of his fingers brushing against your cheekbone, sliding down your cheek to your jawline, and stopped. His pupils began to change color—from grayish-white to light brown, and light brown to dark brown. He looked down at the tips of his fingers, then looked back up at you. He asked: "...What are you?"