The night was cold and silent.
The old industrial district of Hamburg had long been abandoned: the factories were shut down, the people had left, and only rusty containers, rats, and people like him remained — Daniel Müller, a homeless former mechanic who had lost everything after a divorce and illness.
He wandered along the back lot of a supermarket, holding an old flashlight. The air smelled of rot and rain.
“If only I could find a piece of bread…” he muttered, opening another dumpster.
But this time, instead of the usual rustling of garbage bags, he heard… a faint, barely audible cry.
Daniel froze. At first, he thought it was a cat. But the sound came again — soft, pleading, human.
He pointed the flashlight — and his heart stopped.
Among plastic bags lay a small bundle wrapped in a gray blanket.
He carefully unwrapped it — and saw a baby. Very tiny, eyes closed, face pale.
“Oh my God…” he whispered. “Who left you here?”
The baby was alive. Breathing — weakly, but steadily. It looked like an ordinary infant.
But then Daniel noticed: the child’s skin was ice-cold, as if it had been lying there for hours.
And something else — on the baby’s wrist was a leather bracelet engraved with the name:
“Emil K.”
Daniel didn’t know what to do. Call the police? He didn’t even have a phone.
So he took off his old coat, wrapped the baby in it, and walked to the abandoned hangar where he slept.
There, under a dim streetlamp, he lit a small fire from broken wooden boards and began warming the child.
The baby soon stirred, opened its eyes… and Daniel recoiled.
The baby’s eyes were unusual — huge, almost silver, reflecting the firelight like mirrors.
But there was no fear in them. Only silence — and a deep, knowing awareness, as if the baby… was looking through him.
“It’s okay,” Daniel said with a trembling voice. “I’ll help you.”
He dipped a cloth in a bottle of water and gently wiped the child’s face. Then he noticed a tiny pendant around the baby’s neck — metal, cold. Inside was a small folded piece of paper.
He unfolded it:
“If you are reading this — it means he has chosen you.”
A chill ran down Daniel’s spine.
By morning, the baby had fallen asleep. Daniel hadn’t closed his eyes all night — just listened to its breathing.
And the longer he watched, the more he felt something strange — the child was changing. Its skin grew warmer. Its cheeks flushed. Life seemed to awaken inside it — and with every minute, it felt as if that life was being taken from him.
He felt weak — but not from exhaustion. It was as if his strength was being transferred into this tiny being.
At sunrise, Daniel heard footsteps at the entrance to the hangar.
In the doorway stood a woman in a long coat — tall, stern, her head covered with a scarf. In her hands — an old photograph.
“Did you find him?” she asked, looking straight into Daniel’s eyes.
“Who are you?” he asked warily.
“I am the one who has been searching for him for three years. His name is Emil. But he… is not exactly a child.”
She stepped closer, and as she did, the baby woke and reached out its hand toward her.
Daniel’s insides tightened.
“What do you mean? What is he?”
The woman gave a sad smile:
“He is what people once called a ‘gift.’ He chooses the one who is willing to give their last for another.”
The baby breathed softly, and suddenly the lamp’s light seemed brighter.
Daniel looked down — and saw faint marks on his palms, as if burned by light.
“That means he will live now,” the woman said. “Because of you.”
He didn’t manage to say anything. He just watched as she walked away with the child into the fog, her footsteps fading into the morning silence.
Later, in the hangar, they found only his old coat and the tiny bracelet with the inscription “Emil K.”
Nobody ever figured out who the homeless man was — or why, from that day on, no one ever spent the night there again… even though it was always warm inside.
