Dreams. Every time we close our eyes, we slip into worlds we do not recognize, yet somehow we remain conscious—aware in a way that feels impossible. People always ask what these visions mean. Are they fragments of the future, messages of what could be? Or are they nothing more than echoes of the mind? Science tells us that dreams are simply the brain rearranging its memories, playing with them while we rest. Ancient writings say otherwise—stories where God sent visions through dreams to warn, to guide, to reveal. But what about the philosophical lens? Reality and consciousness intertwine, tethered to the great illusion of linear time. Second by second, sunrise after sunset, we live. We move. We continue. Yet in the quiet, in the dark, there are dreams—same word, but a completely different meaning. The kind we don't just see, but the kind we chase. The kind we want to transform into reality. And the decisions we make—generation after generation, moment after moment—shape the direction of our lives. We choose, we act, and we justify those choices as if they were always ours to control. But are they truly what we were meant to do? We think beforehand, uncertain. We fail or we succeed. Then we think again. Did it feel right? Did it feel wrong? Did it give us joy? Did it leave us hollow? What if we chose differently? What if we lived differently? In our reality, nightmares take shape as sadness, pressure, and quiet sorrow. We try to erase them—of course we do. No one wants their nightmares echoing through their dreams. Yet the question remains— could it be worse? What else can reality take from us? What else can our dreams reveal? Nightmares inhabit both. We exist in a world shaped by our own decisions. We have done everything to become who we are, and in doing so, altered the path of those who come after us. Generation after generation. And so, regret emerges. The burden settles. There are moments when we wish for another life—one that fits what we believe we deserve. Sometimes we long to return to the past, to revise what has already been written. But time does not bend. Still, a single possibility remains. Destiny, and the universe itself, will test whether things were ever meant to be. And in that decision, the meaning of everything is revealed.
It was past midnight on March 20, 2021, in Lucena. The night was heavy and gloomy, the kind of stillness that precedes a storm. Kean had fallen asleep mid-conversation on a video call with Kaye. His phone was propped up on his pillow, the screen showing his still face framed by darkness.
Kaye's voice, filtered through the Lityear app and the 289 light-years separating them, was soft but persistent.
KAYE (Whispering on a video call):
"Kean? Hey, Kean. Wake up, love. You fell asleep again."
Kean jolted, blinking against the phone's light. His eyes, still bleary, found Kaye's worried face on the screen.
KEAN:
"Kaye... sorry. I—I didn't mean to. I guess the trip back from Manila took more out of me than I thought."
KAYE:
"It's okay. But I need you awake now. It's going to be tomorrow, right? Tomorrow's March 21st... our monthsary of being together in this ridiculous distance." Her voice wavered slightly. "Are you really sure about this, love? About tomorrow?"
Kean's heart hammered against his ribs. He had already set the plan in motion, but the reality of meeting Tobie in Laguna and facing the modified MRI machine felt like stepping off a cliff.
KEAN:
"Y-Yes. I'm really sure. I'm just overthinking. Thinking what could happen to my other self, what it will feel like... I just want to see you already. I want to hug you and comfort you, bubs."
KAYE:
"Aww, don't worry. We'll be together soon. I'm just so concerned about you, too. You really don't have to do it if you're not ready. Tobie said the hole won't close for a hundred years, remember? I can wait for long. Just for you."
Kean shook his head, pushing his fears down. The image of Alternate Kean and Eunice flashed in his mind, fueling his resolve.
KEAN:
"But something is pushing me, Kaye. Every time I think of my situation right now—my future, the lingering pain of the breakup, this constant feeling of being stuck—what if there's something genuinely better than this out there? What if the life waiting for me in your universe is the one I was actually meant to live? Right?"
KAYE:
"Maybe you're right, but—"
KEAN:
"Please, just let me... go to you now. I can't wait anymore. I can't live in this place knowing you're just 289 light-years away. Just promise me you'll be waiting. Promise me you'll make it worth the risk."
Kaye's eyes were glistening, a deep reservoir of love and anxiety. She raised her hand to the camera, palm flat against the glass as if reaching across the void.
KAYE:
"I promise, Kean. I'll be waiting. We'll celebrate our monthsary together, finally. Just save yourself, okay? That's the only promise you have to keep."
Kean is still in his room in Lucena, the camera on his phone turned off, but he had just finished his vulnerable exchange with Kaye. The air of romantic promise was shattered by the sound of heavy footsteps and a slurred, angry voice approaching his door.
KEAN (Typing to Kaye):
Hold on, hold on. My dad is home. I need to mute the mic and turn off the cam.
Kean thought he pressed the mic icon, but the Lityear app, likely glitching under the constant strain of the White Hole radiation, failed to register the command. His camera was dark, but his audio was tragically wide open to Kaye's universe.
The shouting started immediately, right outside his locked door.
KEAN'S DAD (Shouting, voice thick with liquor):
"KEAN! KEAN! WHERE ARE YOU! WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU?! WHY IS THERE NO FOOD DOWNSTAIRS, HUH?!"
Kean's body stiffened, his jaw clenched so tight it ached. He didn't move toward the door; he just stared at the blank screen where Kaye's face had been. His fists balled up on his desk.
In his mind, the fury was a silent scream: Why. Why does it have to be like this every night. WHY! This is what I'm running from. This is my 'normal.'
The shouting continued, a torrent of abuse and slurred commands. Kean shook violently, the loss of control too much to bear.
KEAN (Shouting, a sudden, desperate roar):
"STAY THE HELL OUT OF ME!"
He swung his fist down, not at the person, but at the solid wood door. The impact was deafeningly loud. A crack splintered the wood near the frame.
AUNT RAQUELA (Shouting from down the hall):
"Kean! Don't mind your dad! He's drunk! Go to sleep now! Don't damage the house!"
Kean's dad cursed loudly, the sounds echoing down the hallway, before the heavy footsteps retreated downstairs. The house fell into a terrifying, fragile silence.
Kean slid to the floor, leaning his back against the battered door, tears of rage and frustration streaming down his face. He wrapped his arms around his knees, pulling himself inward, silently shaking.
Then, from the dark phone screen on the pillow, Kaye's voice came through, clear and laced with pure terror and compassion.
KAYE (Crying):
"Love? Bubs? Oh my goodness, that was so loud. You didn't mute your mic, Kean. Are you alright? Please, come here to me. I'm so worried."
Kean reached for the phone, turning his camera on. His face was red and wet.
KEAN (Voice cracking):
"Kaye... you heard that? I'm sorry. I—I thought I muted it. That's... that's just how it is sometimes. That's why I have to go."
KAYE:
"Don't apologize. Don't you dare apologize. That sound... that was terrifying, Kean. I didn't realize it was like that every night. All this time, you never told me the anger you were living with."
KEAN:
"I didn't want you to worry. I didn't want you to think less of my life. But that is my normal, Kaye. This room, this door, this silence after the fight... that is what I am sacrificing my life to escape. I have to see if the other side of that 289 light-year portal is better than this."
KAYE:
"It is, love. I promise you, it is. We may have a different set of problems here, but no one is yelling at you to stay the hell out of their life. You are welcome here. You are loved here."
KEAN:
"Then don't try to stop me tomorrow, okay? You heard it. That man, that life... it's destroying me. I need the switch. I need the 289 light-years. I need you."
KAYE:
"I won't stop you. Just hurry, Kean. And when you arrive, I am going to hold you so tight you forget what silence felt like after all that noise."
Kean finally managed a tearful, resolute smile. The moral terror of stealing Alternate Kean's body was now balanced by the moral necessity of saving his own soul.
Kean and Kaye were still on the video call, the emotion raw after Kean's outburst. Before either could speak again, a new message flashed across the top of their Lityear screens—not a private message, but a notification from a hidden, three-person group chat Tobie must have silently created.
TOSHIE (Lityear Group Chat):
I saw that rage of you, Kean. I know privacy matters, but don't worry, I'm not always watching. Not like all day and all night. But that intensity... I felt it even across 289 light-years. Your commitment is clear.
Kaye's face, still visible on the video call, flushed with anger at the invasion of privacy. She didn't bother typing.
KAYE (Into the phone, voice tight with fury):
"You know what, Toshie? If you can hear me in this call—and yes, I know you can hear me!—please give Kean a break! His situation is not very okay! He's going through enough without you watching him crack!"
KEAN (Calmly, typing back to Kaye while looking at his screen):
It's okay, Kaye. Calm down. He's just confirming his data. Now, I'm truly desperate to get into my other self's life. I can't stay here.
TOSHIE (Lityear Group Chat):
Wise choice, brother. This is your chance to live your dreams. Who knows what's waiting for you there besides your Kaye.
KEAN (Typing, the worry heavy):
But there's something I'm nervous of. It's about Eunice and my other self. It seems she's still in love with me. Am I supposed to let go of her in that reality?
KAYE (Voice, teasing through the worry):
"That will be a very hard situation for you, bubs. You'll have to lie to her. Besides, I'd be jealous, hihi!"
KEAN (Voice, managed a soft smile):
"Aww, don't be. Yeah, but I have to lie to myself, too—pretend I'm not running away from the other me's perfect life."
The notification sound chimed again, this time with a formal, professional header.
TOBIE (Lityear Group Chat):
Hello. I have some announcements. I just finalized the frequency dampeners for the modified MRI. They require time for static calibration to ensure the switch is clean and doesn't cause irreversible damage.
Kean and Kaye watched the screen, their hearts sinking as Tobie continued.
TOBIE:
Therefore, the window of opportunity is shifting. The operation must be delayed.
I need Kean to arrive in Laguna not tomorrow, March 21st, but one month from now, on April 21, 2021. I need the stable radiation flow to align perfectly with the machine.
Kean slumped back against the door, his moment of final resolve dissolving into bitter disappointment.
KEAN (Chatting, desperate):
A whole month? No! Tobie, you can't do that! I just made my peace with the risk. I can't wait another thirty days living with... with all of this!
KAYE (Voice, echoing his disappointment):
"A month? But that means we miss our monthsary, Kean! I thought you were coming home tomorrow!"
TOBIE (Lityear Group Chat, unapologetic):
My data does not account for monthsaries, Kaye. It accounts for survival. If you attempt the switch now, the resulting consciousness feedback could kill Kean's body. The delay is mandatory.
KEAN (Chatting, heartbroken):
Mandatory. Right. So I have to stay here, listen to the shouting, and pretend I'm not about to break reality for a whole extra month? I can't wait that long.
TOSHIE (Lityear Group Chat, offering a cruel comfort):
Think of it as training, Kean. Every day you endure in your reality is another day you appreciate the peace waiting for you in ours. You have to earn the switch. Be patient.
Kean stared at the date: April 21, 2021. A massive, unbearable gap of time stood between his promise to Kaye and his escape.
Kean is still in his room in Lucena, the initial fury replaced by a quiet, determined focus. The weight of the month-long delay is immense, but the planning with Kaye acts as a vital, comforting lifeline.
KAYE (On Video Call):
"A whole month. It's too long, Kean, but we will make it work. We have to. So, tell me, how will you manage it? How will you make excuses to go all the way to Laguna, especially after the outburst? Your aunt will be watching you."
Kean managed a confident, though tired, smile.
KEAN:
"I've thought about it. The news is doing the work for me. I'll just pretend the headaches are getting massive—the symptoms of the 'Chronic Wormhole Syndrome' are intensifying. I'll tell Tita Raquela I found a 'highly recommended specialist' in Laguna who is running private trials on the radiation exposure."
KAYE:
"That's brilliant. It's tragic, but brilliant. You're using the universe's illness as your travel document."
KEAN:
"Exactly. Now, let's stop talking about lies and start talking about our truth. Tell me again what we're going to do first when I arrive. I need the fantasy to get through this month."
Kaye's face softened, her voice dropping into a melodic conspiratorial tone.
KAYE:
"Okay. First, you're staying at my Lola's house, remember? Toshie is setting up a spare room. We won't have to sneak around too much. We'll bake bread with my Lola. You've heard me talk about her, and she makes the best pan de sal."
KEAN:
"Baking bread... I love that. Something simple, something normal that doesn't involve shouting or alternate realities."
KAYE:
"And then, later, we sneak out. The mountain view I always describe to you—the one I show you on the video call—we'll be there together. No screens, just us, looking over the whole city. And then, we'll steal quiet moments, just cuddling, maybe watching a movie until sunrise."
KEAN:
"A movie where no one gets swapped or gets a coma," Kean laughed softly. "And I want to hold your hand, Kaye. That's the first thing. Just feel your hand in mine, without the phone getting hot."
KAYE:
"You can hold my hands for hours. We'll walk all over Baguio. I want to show you the university, my favorite coffee shop, the places that make me, me. I want to share my entire reality with you."
The thought brought a new, complicated worry to Kean's mind.
KEAN:
"Speaking of reality... I hope there won't be a barrier for me to go to Baguio in the other reality of me. Because here, my Aunt Divine doesn't have a confirmed plan to bring me, and Tita Raquela won't allow me to go alone because she's so overprotective."
KAYE:
"Don't worry about that, love. Toshie told me about your alternate self. He's incredibly independent. Kean B is a decisive man. He can drive himself wherever he needs to go. Plus, he's currently dating Eunice, so he likely has more freedom to travel than you do right now."
Kean frowned slightly, the image of his alternate self—capable, loved, and free—stirring a mix of resentment and hope.
KEAN:
"Right. Kean B. Independent. Free. Well, for the duration of my stay, I will be that Kean. I will be independent, and I will drive myself straight to you."
KAYE:
"You will. And you will be safe, and you will be happy. Just get to Laguna, Kean. And endure this month for me."
The romantic plan is sealed. Now, the tension must return to Kean's immediate reality.
A new notification breaks the calm: Messenger Group Chat. It's from Kent, Kean's best friend.
KENT (Mezenger):
Yo Kean! What is this Lityear app you're always on? Saw you in the group chat earlier acting weird about being 'temporarily swapped.' I downloaded it. Looks cool.
Kean's stomach dropped. Kent downloaded Lityear? That app was supposed to be a secret, a controlled channel.
KEAN (Typing rapidly):
KENT, WHAT?! Delete it right now! It's nothing!
KENT (Messenger):
Too late, dude. Already made an account. Anyway, you still talking to the girl in Baguio?
Kean quickly minimized Messenger and opened Lityear to tell Kaye.
KEAN (On Video Call):
"Kaye, Kent downloaded Lityear! My best friend! He's going to find out everything!"
Kaye, surprisingly, looked intrigued rather than panicked.
KAYE:
"Hey, don't worry! Maybe he'll think it's just a regular dating app. Wait... let him join the video call! Hihi, let's just make it look normal. Send him the invite!"
Kean reluctantly created a three-person call. A new panel opened, showing Kent, looking slightly confused but amused.
KENT (On Video Call):
"Hey! Woah, this app is fancy. What's up, Kaye? Kean talks about you constantly." He raised a hand and waved to the screen. "Hello there!"
KAYE:
"Hello, Kent! Nice to meet the famous best friend!"
KENT:
"Wow, you two are lovebirds in the air! You can really feel the chemistry even through the... wait, what is that?"
Kent suddenly looked up, past his phone camera, his eyes wide. Kean and Kaye, alarmed, looked at their own windows.
Outside Kean's Lucena window, the sky was not black; it was beginning to pulse with an eerie, sickly green light, twisting and folding like an aurora borealis. Kaye's view showed the same frightening phenomenon over the Baguio mountains.
KENT (Voice strained):
"Kean? Wait, uhh, what is that light? My head aches so bad, ugh!" He clutched his temples and his screen went static, then black. Kent had hung up.
KEAN:
"What? Kaye? Does your head ache too?"
Kaye was already contorted in pain on her screen, clutching her head with both hands.
KAYE:
"Yes! Omygosh, this is too bad! It hurts so bad, Kean, wait! It's squeezing my head!"
Kean felt the familiar, crushing pressure return, multiplied tenfold. Panic, cold and absolute, seized him.
KEAN (Voice rising to a shout):
"Wait, wait, wait! Tobie! Toshie! What's happening! Can you hear me?!"
He frantically opened the group chat.
SHAN (Mezenger Group Chat):
Freak it, this is insane! My head aches so bad, guys.
LAWRENCE (Mezenger Group Chat):
Mine too! Like someone's drilling into my brain!
VINCE (Mezenger Group Chat):
Did you guys see the green light outside? What is that?!
The cosmic event was now a public, painful, and terrifying reality.
TOBIE (Lityear Group Chat):
Hold on tight, Kean! We might collapse the channel in this one! Close your eyes!
TOSHIE (Lityear Group Chat):
The power surge is critical! The field is destabilizing!
Kean fought through the crushing pain, trying to get answers from the frantic programmers.
KEAN (Shouting into the mic):
"Hey, you two! Did something happen to your machines or something that caused this?!"
TOSHIE (Lityear Group Chat):
No! It's the burst! It's getting strong again! The 10,794 ly energy is peaking!
TOBIE (Lityear Group Chat):
I think I'm gonna pass out! Kean, hold on, we need you conscious!
Kean's head began to shake violently, not from the earth, but from the immense, vibrating power of the unleashed GRB energy. Kean felt his mind spin as the pressure became unbearable.
He let out a final, raw gasp before his body gave out. The headache was too much, the cosmic energy overwhelming the channel. Kean's eyes rolled back, and his body slumped onto the mattress as his consciousness faded into the unbearable Green Collapse.
Then, silence. Not the fearful, empty silence of his room, but a warm, domestic stillness.
A soft, female voice, gentle and close, cut through the quiet.
VOICE (Sweetly):
"Kean! Wake up! Breakfast is ready!"
Kean's mind registered the sound, sluggishly. What? Is it already morning? He tried to lift his hand. My head... it feels light... there's no pressure.
The voice called out again, further away, cheerful.
VOICE:
"Kean! Wake up! I'll go to work now with your father!"
A jolt of pure shock shot through Kean's fading consciousness. That voice... calm, loving, utterly familiar yet foreign to his current life in Lucena.
What? That voice... Is that... Mommy?
Then came a deeper, masculine voice, firm but utterly devoid of the usual anger and liquor.
VOICE (Warmly):
"Kean! Bring yourself out now, my boy! We're gonna go driving lessons later!"
Kean's mind screamed the realization: His father... happy? Sober? Driving lessons? And his mother... here?
Kean strained, every fiber of his being trying to pull his eyelids open, desperately unsure where he was. He was paralyzed, caught between the deafening pain of the collapse and this impossible, gentle peace. He couldn't move, couldn't speak, utterly unsure whether he was dreaming... or... he was about to wake up... in reality... again.