He froze, his legs refusing to move, as if the earth itself had betrayed him. A scream formed in his throat—but no sound came out. Both hands rose instinctively to shield his face, yet faintly, carried on the wind, a voice called his name.
"Zep… Zep!"
The voice echoed from everywhere at once, deep and hollow, as if the forest itself were speaking.
Zep's eyes snapped open.
He was no longer in the hospital. Thick, damp fog curled around him in ghostly wisps. The ground beneath his feet was soft, covered in moss and dotted with tiny, shining flowers. The earthy scent of wet soil and fallen leaves filled his nose, grounding him in this strange, dreamlike place.
"I… I think I know this place," Zep thought, eyes wide. "Mossy forest?!"
He pushed himself upright slowly, rubbing his damp hands together and shaking off the moisture that clung stubbornly to him.
Behind him, a cloud-like figure floated, human-shaped yet shifting like mist. Its feet hovered inches above the ground, moving without effort—untethered, otherworldly. A faint chill brushed his skin like a soft wind.
The figure's right hand rested gently on Zep's shoulder. The pressure was cool and firm, grounding him in place. Zep stiffened, startled—but did not pull away.
The fog-formed figure remained faceless, a swirling mass of gray, yet its presence radiated calm authority.
"You were the first to show up to me," Zep said, voice steadier than he expected. "Now I have nothing to fear from you—who are you?"
The figure's voice seemed to come from everywhere at once, soft but commanding:
"It's up to you… you will find out."
Its hand stayed on his shoulder, and faint echoes of Zep's name drifted through the fog, wrapping around him like a gentle current.
"You must be ready before the sky turns red," the figure continued, voice heavier, more serious. The words blurred at the edges, but the meaning was clear: he had to prepare.
He stepped back instinctively—but the ground vanished beneath him. A rush of vertigo swallowed him whole, spinning his mind and chest, darkness creeping over his vision.
A voice cut through the fog—clear, urgent.
"Zep! Zep, wake up!"
Louie's voice.
The strange wind vanished the moment Louie's hands touched him. The hospital room returned with a jolt: fluorescent lights buzzed weakly overhead, broken glass on the floor sparkled like dangerous stars, and the faint smell of antiseptic mixed with the metallic tang of blood. Louie steadied him, hands firm, clothing fluttering lightly in the leftover breeze. Emergency alarms blared somewhere, but for Zep, reality snapped sharply into focus.
Gasping, chest heaving, Zep propped himself into a half-sitting position, struggling to catch his breath. Louie, pale and tense, froze for a heartbeat, as if the weight of what they had witnessed pressed into his chest.
"L-Louie? Wait… w-what happened here?" Zep stammered, eyes wide, scanning the chaotic room. He pressed his hands to his forehead, trying to steady his thoughts, holding on to fragments of the impossible vision.
"I… I don't know," Louie admitted, voice shaky. "I just woke up on the floor."
He said no more. Louie focused on grounding his friend in the present, silently deciding to deal with the impossible later.
A sudden click of the door startled them. Two nurses appeared, dressed in white, hair neatly tied under their caps. Their eyes widened at the chaos: broken glass, splintered ceiling panels, scattered equipment. Panic flashed across their faces as they rushed forward, ready to help Zep and Louie down.
As they moved through the hallway, the faint flickering light of the television broadcast emergency news: a report about the earthquake that had just struck the city. Other patients were guided hurriedly out of their rooms by more nurses. The sound of footsteps and rolling carts echoed down the hallways, blending with worried voices.
Zep's mind still lingered on the fog, the cloud-like figure, and the strange dream-world. Somewhere deep down, he felt the pull of that other world—but for now, the emergency, the broken room, and Louie's steady hands kept him grounded.
Zep's eyes flicked to the television on the wall, its screen glitching faintly. He barely noticed the nurses rushing past, the crunch of glass underfoot, or the ringing in his ears. His attention was locked on the anchor's voice, each word pulling him back to reality.
"A strong earthquake has struck Luzon," the anchor reported, voice steady but urgent. "The affected areas include Manila, NCR, and Calabarzon. The earthquake registered a magnitude of 7.2. Although it lasted only three seconds, buildings have already been damaged. Reports of casualties and structural collapses are still coming in.
"The president has issued immediate orders to all emergency organizations, police, and firefighters to guide civilians to safety. Residents are urged to remain calm, practice duck-and-cover precautions, and move to open areas away from buildings that may collapse. Updates will follow as the situation develops. This is an emergency broadcast."
People continued to stream out of the hospital, kicking up dust and debris. The smell of antiseptic mixed with the metallic tang of broken glass and plaster. Patients who couldn't walk were carried carefully by male nurses, arms straining under the weight, footsteps echoing sharply on the stairwell.
Zep's gaze remained on the flickering screen, body stiff, chest tightening with fear and disbelief. The anchor's voice and the faint static from the TV cut through the distant groans and murmurs of other patients. His ears rang from the tremor's aftershock, making every sound sharp and raw.
As he and Louie finally reached the ground floor, the cool, dust-filled air hit them, and the reality of the chaos sank in. Zep's heart clenched with a terrifying thought—his mother might have been hurt. He caught Louie's glance and saw his own fear reflected back. The world around them—the shattered lobby, fallen ceiling tiles, scattered belongings—faded into the background, leaving only the pressing worry for loved ones' safety.
Outside, crowds of people moved through the open area. Some were injured; others helped each other walk through the debris.
"This can't happen… my mother is alone at home," Zep said, fear tightening his voice.
Nurses returned to the hospital, and the sounds of cars, ambulances, and firefighters filled the air. Zep and Louie exchanged a look. They knew they couldn't wait.
Louie glanced around nervously. "They might not let us leave the hospital yet," he said. Without drawing attention, they slipped out of the entrance.
They moved quickly. The ground was cracked, nearby walls broken, utility poles leaning dangerously. Debris from collapsed buildings littered the streets. Every corner revealed injured people fleeing or being helped. Cars honked frantically, and fragments of shattered structures continued to fall around them. Amidst it all, Zep and Louie pressed forward, weaving through chaos, determined, their fear held at bay as firefighters and police worked to control the situation.
As they approached the police and firefighters, they decided to split up and take different routes, just in case they weren't allowed to go home.
"Let's meet back here later tonight," Louie suggested, glancing around at the chaos. "Then we can go check on Kayla together."
Zep nodded, frowning slightly. "Yeah… I hope she's okay."
Louie gave a small, determined smile. "She'll be fine. Just stay safe, alright?"
Zep returned the smile, a mix of worry and resolve in his eyes. "You too. See you later."
With that, they began to head in separate directions, weaving through the cracked streets and scattered debris, alert to the sounds of shouting, honking cars, and distant sirens.
To be continued..