They say if you treat objects with love, they eventually gain a soul. So, what happens to the things we chuck out like last season’s fashion? What kind of spirits find shelter in the garbage? That’s the question that kicks off our story.

It all starts with a little girl heartbroken over her torn stuffed animal. Her mother, thinking it’s too tattered to bother stitching, decides to dump it and just buy a new one. She strolls over to the garbage depot near their home, casually tosses the bag of refuse into the abyss below, and walks away without a second thought. Watching silently from the shadows is a mysterious hooded figure.

In this world—much like ours—people are quick to toss out what they don’t value. Once something’s dirty or broken, it’s treated as worthless. And sadly, the same often goes for people too.

After witnessing the scene, the hooded figure descends into the underground trash district where all the city’s waste is processed. A guard spots the stranger and immediately pulls a weapon—this is no ordinary trespasser. The city calls him the Dump Thief, a wanted man accused of stealing garbage (yes, really) and smudging the city’s sparkling image.

An alarm blares as more guards rush in, but the Dump Thief isn’t going down easy. He hurls trash bags like dodgeballs on steroids, buying time to bolt. More guards appear and open fire, but with the reflexes of a caffeinated cat, the thief flips, rolls, and swerves like a pro parkour ninja. Even after taking a graze from a bullet, he pulls off a sewer escape Houdini would be proud of.

On the surface, the thief grumbles. He doesn’t see himself as a thief at all—just misunderstood. The next day, two women in the town square gossip about last night’s incident. One insists the thief must be a Tribal, while the other shushes her—because a Tribal man is eavesdropping nearby. As he walks away, their disdain becomes clear: they’d prefer someone like him not set foot in their polished neighborhood.

That man is none other than Rudo, making his way back through the glittering city to the gritty slums—the place he calls home. The contrast between these two worlds is marked by a giant, unmissable wall. Inside the slums, the air reeks, the homes crumble, and rumors about the Dump Thief swirl like flies on rotten food. People worry that if this keeps up, the Apostles will descend on their neighborhood with punishment.

Meanwhile, Rudo is knee-deep in junk, happily fixing a broken lamp he fished out of the trash. His friend Chiwa storms in, scolding him yet again for poking around where he shouldn’t. The city takes its trash laws very seriously. If he gets caught, who knows what they’ll do?

Rudo explains he can’t just ignore perfectly good things being thrown away by the rich. Besides, a guy’s gotta eat. Chiwa teases that he must really be in love with garbage. Rudo blushes and tries to protest—but before he can finish, a gang of grumpy neighborhood kids barges in.

Their leader mocks Rudo for smelling like a landfill and warns Chiwa she’ll catch “the stink” if she hangs out with him. One even kicks over the lamp Rudo was fixing, sneering that no one wants trash from trash. Chiwa stands up for her friend, saying they’re all the same deep down, but the bullies won’t hear it.

They remind everyone that Rudo is the son of a mass murderer. According to them, this slum was built to house criminals—and while they’ve tried hard to behave and clean up their image, Rudo’s bloodline has set them back. Hearing this, Rudo glares at the ringleader with such venom that the kid nearly wets himself, stammering, “S-see?! That’s the look of a killer!”

The bullies retreat, muttering “like father, like son,” and warning that Rudo will end up just like his old man. After they’re gone, Chiwa tries to reassure him. She believes in Rudo—he’s not like them. He wouldn’t hurt anyone.

She then spots the stuffed animal Rudo salvaged, and immediately loves it. Rudo shyly tries to gift it to her but can’t find the words. Before he can say anything, Chiwa’s mother calls her away—again warning her to stay far from Rudo. Rudo kicks himself for being too cowardly to speak up.

On the way home, Rudo bumps into Regto, the Tribal man from earlier—the one shamed by those two women. Regto teases Rudo for failing to give Chiwa the plushie, which makes Rudo panic when he realizes his not-so-smooth moment had an audience. Dropping the jokes, Regto turns serious. He warns Rudo that dumpster diving is dangerous work, especially for someone his age.

Rudo insists he’s careful, but Regto isn’t buying it. “You almost got shot!” he reminds him. They may not be blood relatives, but Regto raised Rudo like a son. He found him abandoned as a baby and took him in. Rudo knows this and quietly respects the man who’s done so much for him.

Regto, changing the subject, encourages Rudo to be more honest with Chiwa. “If you tell her how you feel, she’ll fall for you,” he says with a grin. Rudo, flustered, almost drops the lantern again. That’s when Regto notices the graze on Rudo’s arm. His expression hardens as he tends to the wound. While he’s at it, he asks Rudo to remove his gloves so he can change the bandages on his hand, too.

Looking him square in the eyes, Regto pleads, “Don’t go back to the dump. No one knows what’ll happen if you do.”

Rudo brushed off the injury, insisting it was nothing compared to the scars left by his biological father—emotional baggage included. Regto, now serious, reminded him that in their world, the law is crystal clear: commit a major crime, and it’s straight to death row—no appeals, no lawyers, just a drop into the abyss. That’s where Rudo’s dad ended up, and it’s exactly why Regto warned him to tread carefully, or he’d be following that same vertical route.

For as long as he could remember, Rudo’s hands had been pitch black—burned and blistered by an unknown pain that struck without warning. People didn’t just stare; they looked at him like he was a monster. The trauma left deep cracks in his young mind. But then, one day, Regto handed him an old pair of gloves—worn, stitched, and clearly past their prime. And yet, with those gloves, the pain began to fade, if only a little. For Rudo, that simple act meant everything. He owed Regto a debt no lifetime could repay.

Cue awkward dad moment: Regto suddenly grinned and teased his unofficial son, telling him to hurry up and woo Chiwa before some other guy snatches her away. “Give her the stuffed bunny,” he advised. “And hey, maybe steal a kiss from the princess while you’re at it.” Predictably, Rudo exploded in flustered embarrassment—his yells echoing outside, completely unaware that a dark figure was eavesdropping from the alley nearby.

Trying to lighten the mood, Regto told him to fix that permanent scowl on his face. “If you can’t laugh for real, fake it. Be someone else for a minute. Just act. Whatever it takes to seem… well, less murdery.” But Rudo didn’t trust his own appearance, especially those intense, blood-red eyes that scared everyone away except raccoons and maybe Chiwa.

As he wandered the slums, Rudo mulled over what folks always said—the abyss wasn’t just a landfill; it was the final destination for criminals, the unwanted, and society’s human garbage. He stumbled upon a sentencing in progress—another poor soul being tossed into the pit, surrounded by a gleeful mob yelling, “Into the abyss with the filth!” over and over like it was their favorite chorus.

Suddenly—BAM! Chiwa jumped out and scared the stuffing out of him. She laughed at his jump scare and explained how the slum was built right beside the abyss so the poor never forget: one wrong move, and they’d be next. Everyone in the ghetto would witness an execution sooner or later. Then, in a tender moment, she admitted she didn’t want Rudo to be one of them. She told him to listen to Regto more often—he cared about him. Hearing the word “too,” Rudo started overthinking—was that a confession?

Things got adorably awkward as they blushed back and forth until Chiwa noticed the stuffed bunny in his hands. Cornered, Rudo gave it to her, saying the bunny would be much happier with her than back in the trash. Mortified and giddy, he bolted off to tell Regto what had just happened, already imagining the teasing.

But as he ran home, he bumped into Apostles patrolling the slum again, making the locals visibly nervous. Bursting into the house, Rudo shouted that he saw Regto near the front—only to freeze. The same shadowy figure from before was there, in the act of murdering his foster father.

Without thinking, Rudo launched at the killer, but was quickly beaten down and left injured. He could only watch as the assassin fled into the shadows. Bleeding, Regto reached out and urged Rudo to run, to survive. But the boy couldn’t move—his body frozen by pain and fury.

With his last breath, Regto didn’t beg for help—he gave Rudo a mission: to change the rotten world they lived in.

Just then, a stun gun crackled. The Apostles stormed in and pinned the murder on Rudo. He tried to explain, but they weren’t interested in the truth. With Regto already fading, there was no one left to defend him. The guards beat him mercilessly, and one officer landed a brutal punch that knocked Rudo unconscious.

Outside, neighbors whispered like they’d been waiting for this moment: “Rudo finally snapped—just like his father.” Even Chiwa, stunned and heartbroken, couldn’t believe he was capable of murder.

Dragged to the city’s edge, Rudo was officially condemned. Branded a criminal, a trash thief, and a killer, he was sentenced to death. Dressed in ceremonial robes, the high official passed judgment: “All filth must be swallowed by the abyss.”

The crowd roared once more, “Into the abyss with the filth!”

As Rudo was shoved toward the edge, confusion and terror twisted in his chest. He hadn’t done anything wrong. He wanted to scream, to plead—but the words never came. All he received were icy glares from strangers who didn’t know him or the truth. Then, his eyes caught a familiar face—Chiwa.

She stood there, eyes downcast, torn between heartbreak and betrayal. When Rudo cried out to her—begging her to find the real killer—she said nothing. Instead, in quiet, devastating coldness, she dropped the stuffed bunny he gave her… and walked away. With venom in her voice, she said, “Like father, like son.”

That moment shattered what was left of Rudo’s soul.

Seething with rage, he muttered that the real filth weren’t the ones in the pit—but the crowd above. A blind, deaf mob that judged without reason.

And then, he saw Regto’s murderer… standing among the crowd.

But before he could act, he was pushed off.

As he plummeted into the abyss, his heart drowned in hatred. Rudo swore he’d drag them all to hell. Every last one of them.

Down, down, down he fell.

Later, his eyes slowly blinked open. He lay atop a mountain of trash, surrounded by the putrid smell of decay. As he looked around, he realized—this wasn’t death.

It was worse.

A vast, endless world made of garbage stretched before him. And towering over the waste… was a massive monster made entirely of filth.

And for the first time, Rudo understood what true hell looked like.