Mayo lay on the cold ground.
Blood matted his hair near his temple, dark and slow. His eyes were open but saw nothing. His chest rose and fell in a shallow rhythm—alive, but barely.
Police officers shouted orders. Yellow tape went up. The crowd pressed against it anyway, craning their necks and whispering.
The rescued girl sat on the curb ten feet away, wrapped in her mother's arms. Both of them were sobbing—the mother loud and heaving, the girl quiet and broken.
A small shard of glass was still clutched in the girl's hand. She hadn't let anyone remove it yet.
"What happened?" someone asked.
"Did you see the glass?"
"The windows just… cracked. All of them."
"The air got hot. I felt it from across the street."
"Something happened."
No one understood what.
An officer knelt beside Mayo and pressed two fingers against his neck.
"He's breathing. Get the ambulance. Now!"
They lifted him onto a stretcher, careful but urgent. The crowd parted like water.
Mayo's broken glasses remained on the street. One lens was completely shattered. The frame was twisted.
No one picked them up.
Sirens arrived minutes later. Paramedics moved quickly through the stunned crowd, then loaded Mayo onto a stretcher and rushed him into the waiting ambulance.
The vehicle sped away with its lights flashing, leaving behind a shaken street and scattered whispers.
The shattered glasses remained on the pavement long after the sirens faded.
---
The hospital hallway carried the sharp scent of antiseptic and quiet dread.
Haruto and Mina arrived in a rush—not dramatic, just desperate. Mina's hands trembled so badly she dropped her phone twice while hurrying forward. Haruto gripped something tightly in his fist without even realizing it.
A doctor met them outside a closed door. He looked young, exhaustion visible in the dark circles beneath his eyes.
"He has a concussion," the doctor said gently. "There are bruises along his ribs, back, and shoulder. He took several hard hits."
Mina covered her mouth, trying to steady her breathing.
"But he will recover. His condition is stable now."
Haruto released a slow breath and nodded, though he caught the hesitation in the doctor's tone.
The doctor paused before continuing.
"There is something else."
Mina lifted her head.
"When the paramedics brought him in, his body temperature was extremely high. Not like a fever, it was far beyond anything we normally see."
He spoke carefully, choosing his words.
"For roughly ten seconds, it was as if every cell in his body was generating intense heat. Then the temperature suddenly returned to normal."
The hallway fell completely quiet.
"We cannot explain it," the doctor continued. "We ran every test available. Everything appears normal now."
Haruto slowly opened his hand and looked down at his fist.
Mina remained silent.
Soon the waiting area began to fill.
Toviro arrived first, his propeller spinning so quickly it blurred. Ozair and Aryan followed moments later, both breathing hard from running. None of them asked questions. They simply sat and waited.
When a nurse finally allowed them inside, Mayo lay motionless in the hospital bed. Bandages wrapped around his head, and dark bruises spread across his ribs. Machines nearby beeped in a calm, steady rhythm.
A police officer stood near the door, speaking quietly with Haruto and Mina.
"Your son showed remarkable courage, Mr. and Mrs. Arasto," the officer said, his voice carrying softly through the room. "That little girl survived because of him. There were many adults on that street—strong people who could have stepped forward."
He paused for a moment.
"Your son was the only one who did."
The words settled over the room like dust after a long fall.
The officer gave a respectful nod before quietly leaving.
Ozair stood beside the window. For once, he had nothing to say.
Aryan stared down at the floor.
Toviro remained beside the bed, his small fists clenched so tightly that his arms trembled. The light in his chest flickered faintly, unstable and uneven.
"You idiot," Ozair whispered at last, his voice cracking. "Why didn't you just move away?"
There was no anger in the words.
Only worry.
Elina sat quietly in the corner. She had not spoken since arriving. After a moment, she looked at Mayo's still face and said softly,
"He always does that."
No one disagreed.
As the hours passed, the room slowly grew quieter. One by one, the visitors drifted out into the hallway, their voices fading until only the soft rhythm of the machines remained.
Night settled over the hospital.
Mina did not sleep.
She sat in the plastic chair beside Mayo's bed, gently holding his hand. His fingers were warm, steady, alive.
Haruto stood near the window, staring into the dark sky beyond the glass. The stars were still moving. The massive shadow still loomed far above the world.
"What has happened to the world?" Mina whispered, her voice barely carrying across the room.
She hesitated before speaking again.
"What has happened… to our son?"
Haruto remained silent for a long moment.
Then he turned toward her. A small, tired smile appeared on his face.
"Have you forgotten?" he said softly. "This is the path destiny chose for us. We cannot fight what is already written."
Mina looked at him.
Something passed between them—something old, heavy, and unspoken.
She tightened her grip on Mayo's hand.
The night stretched on in uneasy silence. Machines hummed softly while the world outside continued to turn, though nothing about it felt normal anymore.
Mina remained beside the bed, refusing to let go, while Haruto stayed near the window, watching the sky until exhaustion finally forced him to sit.
Hours passed like that.
Slowly, the darkness beyond the glass began to fade.
Morning arrived.
Toviro had not moved from Mayo's bedside all night. His small body sat rigid in the chair, eyes locked on Mayo's face. The faint light in his chest pulsed weakly.
How did I let this happen to you?
The thought returned again and again, circling endlessly without answer.
Sunlight crept through the window. But something about it felt wrong.
The massive shape behind the sun had grown larger. Closer. Its outline pressed against the brightness like something struggling to push through. The sky around it looked distorted, bent in ways that light should never bend.
A television hung in the corner of the room, muted but running a news broadcast. Haruto reached for the remote and turned up the volume.
"Reports are coming in from across the world. Unexplained deaths have been recorded in twelve countries. Individuals have vanished without a trace—some from crowded streets, others from locked homes. Scientists at Spake have been unable to provide clear explanations."
The screen showed disturbing footage. Empty clothing scattered across sidewalks. Security cameras capturing people one moment and nothing the next.
"And in related developments, Earth's rotation has shifted. The planet is now moving in the opposite direction. Sunrise today occurred in the west. Sunset will occur in the east."
Mina stared at the screen, unable to look away.
"This change has triggered massive tsunamis across coastal regions. Global temperatures have risen sharply. Wind patterns have become unstable and violent. We are now joined by Mr. Waes, lead astrophysicist at Spake."
A man appeared on the broadcast. His face was pale, exhaustion etched beneath his eyes as if he had not slept in days.
"Our galaxy, A-Nebula," he said slowly, "and our neighboring galaxy, the Milky Way, are moving toward each other at impossible speed. What should have taken millions of years is occurring within days. Perhaps weeks."
He paused, choosing his words carefully.
"This movement is disrupting the fundamental laws that govern reality. Gravity, time, even light itself are behaving unpredictably."
The anchor's voice trembled. "But A-Nebula and the Milky Way exist within the same universe. How can something like this happen?"
"Exactly," Waes replied. "Under normal circumstances, it cannot. Phenomena of this magnitude only occur when separate universes interact—when different realities begin to collide."
The room fell silent.
"Are we safe?" the anchor asked quietly. "Can you guarantee humanity's safety?"
Waes looked directly into the camera.
"No. I cannot guarantee anything. I advise everyone to store food, water, and essential supplies. Find shelter. Stay with your families."
The broadcast cut back to the anchor. She opened her mouth, then hesitated. For several seconds she struggled to speak.
Finally, she managed, "We will continue monitoring the situation. Please stay tuned for further updates."
In hospitals across the city, across the country, and across the world, people watched the same broadcast.
Fear spread quickly.
Down the hallway, someone began crying. A man shouted at a television in the waiting room. A nurse hurried past the door, her face pale.
The world was starting to break apart.
And Mayo still had not woken up.
Time passed slowly inside the quiet room while the chaos outside continued to grow. Voices drifted through the hallway—hurried footsteps, distant televisions repeating the same frightening news.
The door opened softly.
Elina stepped inside.
She walked past the noise in the corridor as if it did not exist. Without a word, she moved to the chair beside Mina and sat down, her eyes settling on Mayo's face.
An hour later, Ozair and Aryan arrived.
Ozair glanced around the room, trying to lighten the heavy mood.
"So… saving kids from robbers," he said with a forced grin. "Very dramatic. Next time save a puppy. Much more original."
No one laughed.
He did not try again.
Aryan remained near the foot of the bed. He looked at Mayo for a moment, then lowered his gaze.
"You better wake up soon," he said quietly. "You still owe me money."
Mina managed a small, fragile smile.
Hours slipped by.
Eventually, evening settled outside the window, the fading light turning the room a dull shade of gray.
Ozair and Aryan left first. Their families needed them, and the world outside was becoming more uncertain by the hour.
Elina stayed.
Mina slowly stood from her chair, joints stiff after sitting so long. She picked up a damp cloth from the bedside table, cool and freshly soaked, then stepped toward Mayo to wipe his forehead.
Before she could, Elina reached out gently.
"I'll do it."
Mina paused and looked at her for a moment, then quietly handed over the cloth.
Elina leaned forward and pressed the cool fabric against Mayo's skin with careful hands. She said nothing. No tears, no whispers.
She simply stayed.
After a long moment, she rose from the chair and walked toward the door.
At the threshold, she stopped.
She glanced back once at Mayo.
Then she stepped into the hallway, and the door closed quietly behind her.
The room grew calm again. Mina stayed beside the bed, her hand resting over Mayo's, while Haruto remained near the window, watching the pale evening sky.
Toviro had not moved from his place. His eyes stayed fixed on Mayo's face, as if afraid that looking away might change something.
Outside, the world continued to unravel. Televisions repeated the same troubling news, and anxious voices filled the corridors. Inside the room, however, time moved slowly. The steady rhythm of the machines was the only sound.
Night passed like that.
When morning finally arrived, soft sunlight slipped through the window and spread across the quiet room.
Not long after, the doctor returned for his rounds. He greeted them briefly before walking to the monitors beside the bed. His eyes moved across the readings, then down to the chart in his hands.
After a moment, his brow tightened.
"Strange," he murmured.
Mina straightened in her chair. "What is it?"
The doctor checked the monitor again and placed a hand lightly on Mayo's forehead.
"His fever is gone," he said slowly. "His temperature is normal, his heartbeat is stable, and his breathing is steady. Everything looks perfectly—"
Mayo's fingers moved.
The small motion stopped everyone.
Mina let out a quiet gasp. Haruto stepped closer. Toviro leaned forward, and the light in his chest suddenly brightened.
Mayo's eyelids trembled before slowly opening. He blinked several times, confusion filling his expression as he tried to focus. His lips moved as if he wanted to speak, but no sound came out.
His gaze drifted toward the ceiling, then toward the bright hospital light above him.
Finally, his eyes settled on his mother's face.
Relief flooded Mina's expression as she reached for his hand.
Toviro opened his mouth to speak.
Then he froze.
Mayo's eyes shifted and stopped on him.
The color of his irises had changed.
They were red.
Not glowing. Not burning. Simply red. Deep, natural, and completely wrong.
Silence filled the room as everyone stared.
Toviro didn't speak. He didn't move.
Mayo looked back at them with those red eyes.
Outside the window, the massive shadow behind the sun continued to grow.