That afternoon, sunlight slipped through the cracks of Lirael's curtains, warming her face as she lay asleep. She stirred slowly, blinking into the unfamiliar ceiling above her. A strange stillness hung in the air—not just in her chest, but in the world around her.
With a groggy sigh, Lirael made her way to the bathroom, splashing water on her face. She brushed her teeth, took a shower, and moved through the motions of a normal day—except nothing felt normal. Something was off. Deeply off.
When she stepped out of her room, the silence struck her harder.
No sounds. No clatter from the kitchen. No voices. No movement. The house was empty.
"Mom? Dad?" she called out.
Nothing.
She walked to the living room and turned on the TV. Static. Every channel—just white noise and flickering. She tried again. Still nothing but that cold, electric hum of emptiness.
A chill crawled down her spine. She grabbed her jacket and stepped outside.
The neighborhood was dead quiet. No cars driving by, no birds chirping, not even the wind stirred the trees. Lirael walked down the street, passing by cafés and small shops that stood frozen in time. Chairs were knocked over, doors left open. One table still had a cup of coffee on it—steam barely rising.
She made her way to the main road.
Cars were scattered across the lanes—some crashed into sidewalks, others left with doors ajar. There were phones dropped on the pavement, backpacks abandoned, like people had vanished in the middle of living.
Then, in the middle of the road, a silver car came to a halt. The passenger door opened. A young man stepped out, rubbing his eyes, looking around in disoriented confusion.
Lirael froze. Then, slowly, she walked toward him.
"H-hey!" she called out, uncertain.
The boy turned. His hair was messy, his eyes still half-asleep.
"Did you… just wake up too?" Lirael asked.
"Yeah," he replied, scratching the back of his neck. "I'm Elior. I fell asleep in the car. My dad was driving but… when I woke up, he was gone. Just me now."
Lirael stared at him for a long moment. Silence wrapped around them both.
In a world abandoned by its people, two strangers had found each other—and neither of them was alone anymore.
Lirael and Elior froze as the rusty hiss of a bus door echoed down the empty street. From the eastern side, a young man stepped down from the abandoned vehicle. His movements were calm, his eyes sharp—scanning the area like someone used to danger.
Not long after, another figure emerged from a broken-down car on the opposite side. This one was rougher—his hair messy, eyes wary and sharp. He held a metal rod in one hand, gripping it like a weapon.
"I'm Kael," said the one from the bus, his voice firm and composed.
"Riven," the other muttered, never taking his eyes off the others. "Don't get any ideas. I don't trust strangers."
Before the tension could build further, two girls suddenly came sprinting toward them from across the intersection. One wore a combat jacket and moved with calculated speed. The other looked younger, breathless and terrified.
A monstrous creature burst from behind a building, charging after them. It was massive—gray-skinned, misshapen, its eyes too many and its jaws lined with sharp, twisted teeth.
"Ruuun!" screamed the younger girl—Serin, her voice cracking with fear.
"Don't look back!" shouted the older one—Nyssa, pulling her along without hesitation.
BANG!
A shot rang out, sharp and clean. The creature stumbled, let out a deep snarl, and collapsed onto the road, dead.
Everyone turned toward the source of the shot.
A girl stood several meters away, holding a long rifle with practiced ease. She casually blew the smoke from the barrel and approached.
"Name's Veyra," she said with a sly grin. "You can thank me later."
Kael stepped forward, crouched next to the fallen beast, and leaned in.
"The meat reeks… not natural. This thing isn't from our world."
Before anyone could respond, the distant growl of an engine grew louder. A sleek black sportbike rode in from the far end of the street. The rider wore a plain white t-shirt, loose jeans, and sneakers. His helmet covered his face, with a black cloth wrapped over the lower half.
He came to a stop a few meters away, killed the engine, and stood up.
All eyes turned to him.
He removed the helmet slowly, but his face was still hidden behind the black cloth.
Lirael tilted her head, curious.
In a fluid motion, the young man pulled down the cloth.
Everyone stared in silence.
His face looked like something out of fiction—strong features, dusted with faint brown freckles across his nose and cheeks. His bright hazel eyes seemed to glow in the sunlight. Jet-black hair framed his face, and thick, sharp-pointed eyebrows added to his striking appearance. He stood tall—about 190 cm, with pale, foreign skin.
He looked around at them all.
"My name's Peterson," he said calmly.
"And it looks like… we're all in the same boat, aren't we?"
Night slowly settled over Aerenthia, draping the ruined city in a veil of soft mist and long shadows. Inside Lirael's house—now their temporary shelter—candlelight and flashlight beams flickered across tired faces and crumbling walls.
Eight strangers sat in a loose circle in the living room. The couch was buried under jackets and bags, while pillows and makeshift bedding lined the floor. Lirael looked at each of them in turn—worn expressions, eyes full of questions.
"Does anyone know… why everyone disappeared?" Elior asked softly, almost in a whisper.
"And why not us?" Serin added, hugging her knees.
Kael responded after a long silence. "Maybe… we have something others didn't. Or maybe we're part of a failed experiment."
Riven paced the room. "I don't like this. It's too clean. Too… quiet."
"Peterson?" Lirael turned toward him. The tall young man lay on the carpet at the far end of the room, arms crossed over his chest, eyes shut—but his breathing was shallow. He wasn't truly asleep.
"I don't know," Peterson replied flatly, eyes still closed. "But this isn't a normal disaster. We were left behind for a reason."
Veyra leaned forward, resting her rifle beside her. "Or maybe we just haven't been taken yet. Maybe… our time is coming."
Nyssa stared out the dark window. "If that's true, we need to stick together. Whatever happens, none of us can survive alone."
Riven grumbled, dragging a pillow and jacket to a corner. "If I get another crappy sleeping spot, I'm crashing on the roof. Whether you all disappear or not, I need real sleep."
"Be my guest," Kael murmured, leaning back against the wall. "Just don't scream if one of those creatures bites your leg off."
The room fell quiet again. The soft crackling of a candle flame was the only sound.
Lirael looked down at the glowing pendant around her neck. It still shimmered faintly—and no one else seemed to notice.
She hadn't told them yet.
That the pendant… whispered to her.
Just before dawn, while some were barely drifting into sleep and others still lay restless, a distant, unfamiliar sound rumbled through the silence.
Brrrrrt… brrrrrrt…
Serin, sitting near the window, suddenly froze. Her eyes widened. "A helicopter…" she whispered.
"What?" Kael, already a light sleeper, shot up and stood alert.
"A helicopter! There's a helicopter coming!" Serin cried, bolting into the center of the room.
Within seconds, everyone was on their feet. They rushed outside, faces turned skyward. A dark gray military helicopter hovered above, its floodlights sweeping the abandoned city. The wind from its blades whipped dust and leaves in every direction.
"Why now?" Nyssa muttered, clutching her bag tightly.
The chopper began to descend, its heavy metal frame groaning as it landed. The side doors slid open, and two figures in black uniforms stepped out. One of them raised a megaphone.
"ALL OF YOU—THIS PLACE IS NOT SAFE! WE'VE BEEN SENT TO EVACUATE YOU. YOU NEED TO COME WITH US, NOW!"
Peterson narrowed his eyes, studying the officer who had spoken. There was something in his stance—controlled, but not aggressive. Something... familiar?
He took a few steps forward, pausing just feet away from the uniformed man.
They locked eyes.
A brief silence.
Then, without a word, Peterson climbed into the helicopter.
The others exchanged anxious glances.
"He's going," Elior said. "That means we should too, right?"
"What if this is a trap?" Riven scoffed, though he was already moving toward the ramp.
Lirael glanced down at the glowing pendant on her chest. The light had dimmed—as if responding to something unseen. She didn't know what it meant, but she felt the same instinct: Go.
Clutching the pendant, she followed.
One by one, the group entered the aircraft. The engines roared back to life, the doors slammed shut, and the helicopter lifted into the sky—leaving the dead city behind.
But behind the cold eyes of the soldiers... something else was waiting.
Something they weren't prepared for.