Out of concern for the man with the small backpack, you took the bag in front of you, hoping to give it to him later. But as you grabbed hold of it, a heavy feeling came over you. It wasn't physical, but rather, more of what one would call a "burden". Whether it was emotional, mental, or even spiritual, you would never know or think about.
You opened the backpack, and inside were the clothes of the man that you followed earlier.
No, they were your clothes, the familiar ragged shirt and pants. The ones that you were wearing currently were the ones that weren't yours. Whose were they, anyway? You thought you knew, but you realized you didn't.
It did not matter.
You took off what you had on, not minding if there was anyone around who would see, and then put on the clothes from the backpack. As you changed into them, you found yourself fitting them more, with your body looking and feeling more worn by the second.
They were indeed your clothes.
And as if to represent that immaterial "heaviness" that you had on your person, you closed the backpack and put it on. From the looks alone, it didn't look like it had anything much, but your body surely felt the weight... and the need to carry it somewhere.
You had to keep moving. It was something you needed to do. It was your duty.
As you went out of the abandoned building, you took a long, hard look at the Del Mundo Tower in the distance. Every part of you loathed it, and yet, you could only observe. The disaster to come through that accursed edifice was inevitable, and you could only try to look out for the signs of its arrival.
For now, you must keep going.