The sun was setting when the sky turned green. A sickly, pulsating green, like the color of algae under a microscope, spread across the horizon, replacing the fiery hues of the evening. It lasted for only 25 seconds, but it felt like an eternity. The world seemed to hold its breath, bathed in this otherworldly glow. Birds went silent. Cars stopped mid-road. Even the wind stilled.
One minute later, the alarms began.
A deep, resonating wail echoed through the streets, bouncing off the brick walls and glass windows. It was a sound designed to provoke fear and urgency—and it worked. People were running again. Shouts of confusion mixed with the distant banging of doors and the faint rumble of vehicles. Somewhere, in the far distance, loud explosions—like fireworks, but deeper and more guttural—punctuated the cacophony. The ground seemed to vibrate with every distant burst.
He and the others ducked into an alley, their breaths quick and shallow. The air was thick with tension, and even the smallest movement felt like it could give them away.
“What’s happening?” the supporting character whispered, their voice trembling.
He didn’t answer. He couldn’t. His eyes darted to the horizon, then to the street. Soldiers were flooding in now, their dark silhouettes illuminated by harsh floodlights mounted on military vehicles. They moved with precision, their boots hitting the pavement in unison. The sound was relentless and mechanical.
“This way,” he said, tugging the supporting character’s sleeve. They slipped into a nearby building, a crumbling townhouse that looked abandoned. Inside, the air was damp and smelled of mold. They crept through the dusty rooms, avoiding the windows and keeping their footsteps light.
They found a room to hide in, one that seemed the least likely to be searched. It had no furniture, just bare walls and a single table in the corner. They crouched behind it, the supporting character pulling her knees to her chest, eyes wide with fear.
That’s when it happened.
His hands began to glow faintly. At first, it was barely noticeable, just a soft shimmer that could have been mistaken for a trick of the light. But then it grew brighter. He froze, staring at his own palms. The artifact—the one that had vanished into his hand days ago—suddenly reappeared. It shimmered into existence on the table in front of him, as though summoned by his thoughts.
The supporting character gasped. “What… what is that?”
He shook his head, equally stunned. The artifact vibrated, a low hum that seemed to resonate with the very air around them. It was a smooth, metallic object, no larger than a grapefruit, covered in intricate etchings that glowed faintly with the same light as his hands.
“I don’t know,” he whispered, his voice barely audible.
Before he could reach for it, a sudden sound interrupted them. A loud banging. The door to the building was being forced open.
“They’re here,” the supporting character whispered urgently.
He looked back at the artifact, but it was gone. Just like that, as though it had never been there. The glowing in his hands faded, leaving him more confused than ever. But there was no time to think.
“Come on!” the supporting character hissed, grabbing his arm.
They moved quickly, finding a narrow passage between two rooms. A small bookcase was against the wall, and together they pushed it aside, revealing a hidden door. Inside was a tiny room, no bigger than a small bathroom. There was a toilet in the corner and a sink mounted on the wall. The air was stale, and the space was so cramped that they had to huddle together to fit.
They closed the door behind them and pulled the bookcase back into place. The darkness was absolute. The only sounds were their breathing and the faint, muffled noises of soldiers moving through the house. Heavy boots stomped on the floor above, and muffled voices called out commands. Every sound made his heart pound harder.
The supporting character gripped his arm tightly. “Do you think they’ll find us?” she whispered.
He didn’t answer. His ears were trained on the sounds outside. The soldiers were thorough, checking every room, and opening every door. One of them even banged on the wall just outside their hiding spot. For a moment, he thought they were going to be found. He held his breath, his muscles tensed.
But then, the footsteps receded. One by one, the soldiers left the house. The muffled voices grew distant, and finally, the sound of the front door slamming shut signaled that they were alone again.
The silence that followed was deafening.
He exhaled slowly, his heart still racing. The supporting character released his arm, her hands shaking.
“What’s happening?” she whispered again, her voice barely audible.
He shook his head. “I don’t know. But we’re not safe yet.”
The chapter ended with the two of them sitting in the cramped, dark room, the weight of the unknown pressing heavily on their shoulders.