Time passed quietly for the Walkers and the people of Silverton.
But the outside world didn't have it that easy.
Although the gates had closed right after the first breakout, the number of monsters that came through didn't go down.
In fact, they grew—consuming human flesh and multiplying.
As they slowly marched toward a certain place, every city and every country they left behind turned into a wasteland.
Ash and smoke filled the skies.
The stench of death spread across the earth.
People prayed—to gods, to devils, even to the creatures themselves.
Humanity's will was breaking.
But the military never stopped fighting.
They killed what could be killed, saved whoever could be saved, and unleashed their most powerful weapons—nuclear missiles—on zones fully taken over by monsters.
Warning sirens were installed across the surviving regions.
When the military arrived in Silverton, they built barricades along the edges of town, setting up defenses and transforming it into a fortress.
Soldiers patrolled the borders day and night, determined to keep this place from meeting the same fate as the undefended cities.
Everyone was on edge.
No one felt safe anymore.
How could they?
The military's presence was both comfort and curse—it meant Silverton could be attacked at any time.
Years passed.
Drills became routine, an echo of constant fear.
The Walkers tried their best to live a normal life within it all.
Sophia visited them every week or so.
Each visit, she reinforced the seal on Angelo, steadily suppressing the being within him.
Week by week, the pressure lifted.
The nightmares faded.
The whispers dulled into silence.
Angelo never left the house—not once.
He didn't attend drills.
When the military did headcounts, he was always marked as missing.
He lingered within those walls like a ghost—watching, waiting, existing in silence.
No schools.
No parks.
No friends.
Just the occasional visit from Sophia, and the quiet presence of his family.
To outsiders, it was as if Angelo had vanished from the world.
But for the Walkers, he was always there—like a storm cloud that never rained.
Years slipped by.
Angelo turned twenty.
Alex was now twenty-five.
Emma, lively and curious, reached nine.
Even Sophia—though past thirty—remained unchanged: graceful and timeless.
In those five years, she had become more than a guest; she was part of the family.
Olivia trusted her.
James respected her.
Emma adored her stories.
Even Angelo, once withdrawn, had grown fond of her calm, steady presence.
But Alex…
He kept his guard up.
Though he hid it well, fear had taken root deep within him—fear of his brother, of what lay beneath the seal.
He smiled and joked as usual, but each day, he seemed to drift further away.
To him, Angelo was a ticking bomb, something unknown waiting to go off.
He did his own research on the mark—not only to help maintain the seal, but also to prepare a failsafe.
As Sophia's work continued, the oppressive aura that once radiated from Angelo slowly vanished.
Rooms no longer chilled when he entered.
Shadows didn't stretch unnaturally at his feet.
The house felt… normal.
But while peace settled over the Walker home, a new unease grew.
Alex had been tracking the news—creature sightings, outbreaks, battles across the world.
The world was still burning.
And yet, somehow, Silverton remained untouched.
Too untouched.
One day, as the family went about their routines, a terrible thought struck him.
He sat before the flickering glow of the TV, images of burning cities looping endlessly.
And under his breath, he whispered:
"… What if that thing inside Angelo was so powerful… even the creatures were too afraid to come near this place?"
The words froze him.
Then panic hit.
He stood abruptly, heart pounding, and sprinted toward the guest room where Sophia worked—just as she finished the final symbol.
The runes across Angelo's chest shimmered, then sank beneath his skin like ink dissolving in water.
The seal tightened.
The presence vanished.
Gone.
Completely.
Sophia's shoulders slumped with exhaustion.
"It's done," she breathed, not realizing what she had just unleashed.
Angelo stretched, exhaling softly.
"Finally."
Alex's eyes widened. The blood drained from his face as the realization struck.
"Oh no! I'm too late!" he whispered—just before the world began to move.
That very moment—across hills, forests, and silent towns—something shifted.
The monsters stopped in their tracks and turned, as if hearing a sound only they could sense.
Screeches split the air in unison.
The Watchers tilted their heads toward one direction.
The air itself seemed to change.
The aura once leaking from Angelo had been a deterrent—an invisible flame that repelled everything not meant to exist in this world.
Now, that flame was gone.
The creatures moved.
Like hounds freed from chains, horrors surged from the dark.
No longer repelled, they advanced with unrelenting hunger.
Towns fell within hours.
Streets burned.
Airwaves screamed.
At the Walker home, Olivia noticed the TV still playing.
She reached for the remote—then froze.
"All the monsters are now charging toward one location," the reporter's voice stammered.
"Military in that area have been informed. The people of Silverton are to evacuate immediately."
The remote slipped from her hand.
She shouted, voice trembling, "Everyone—come here, now!"
At that same instant, the sirens across Silverton began to wail.
The family rushed in, panic rising in their chests.
On-screen, chaos unfolded—monstrous shapes tearing through cities, camera crews swallowed by shadows, soldiers screaming as the sky burned orange.
Sophia stood frozen.
Alex stepped back, realization hitting him like ice.
James came running, Emma clutched tight in his arms.
The military's announcement echoed through the streets, urging evacuation.
But it was already too late.
The monsters had breached the barricades.
They were inside the town.
And Angelo… stared.
His face was pale, expression unreadable.
He stepped forward, eyes locked on the burning horizon, and whispered—
"… Why is this happening… now?"