The station buzzed with the hollow chatter of a few lingering travelers, the neon boards flickering tiredly against the gloom.
Daigo leaned against a cold steel pillar, hands tucked into his jacket pockets, eyes flicking impatiently to the cracked face of his wristwatch. Fifteen minutes late. He exhaled through his nose, a slow breath heavy with annoyance.
"So," Talen drawled beside him, his hands lazily shoved into the pockets of his trousers, "which company sent you the golden letter, eh?"
Daigo didn't even spare him a glance."Doesn't matter to you," he said flatly, tapping his foot against the smooth, polished platform floor.
Talen laughed under his breath, undeterred, but before he could press further, a sudden wave of noise rolled into the station like a crashing tide.
Raised voices.The scrape of hurried footsteps.
Daigo and Talen exchanged a look, brows furrowing.
Without a word, they turned and made their way toward the entrance.
Outside, a crowd had already formed, a sea of faces turned upward in collective dread.
Phones were raised high, screens glowing pale in the dimness as people filmed the sky, mouths agape with unspoken questions.
"What the hell is going on?" Daigo muttered, shielding his eyes from the flickering station lights as he tried to make sense of the scene.
Above them, the heavens were groaning. The dark clouds, already thick and swollen, seemed to writhe like something alive. A long, jagged seam cracked open across the sky — a sickening sound, like ice splitting underfoot.
And then it came: a red beam, molten and otherworldly, lanced down from the break, stabbing into the horizon with a violent hiss.
The ground trembled subtly beneath their feet.
Daigo's stomach twisted.
There was something wrong with this.
Something very, very wrong.
"Train from Ossyra to Vehlira is now arriving," a distorted voice droned over the speakers, cutting through the rising panic.
Talen grabbed Daigo's sleeve."Come on! Let's go!" he barked, dragging him back inside.
They moved quickly, shouldering through the confused throng to reach their platform.The station, usually gleaming and orderly, now felt suffocating — its sleek white walls and polished tiles somehow too sterile against the chaos clawing at the edges.
They reached the platform just as the train pulled into view.
It should have been a relief.
It wasn't.
The train roared toward them, metal screaming against the tracks, lights flickering violently in the mist. For a fleeting second, Daigo thought he saw figures inside — people — but something was wrong with the way they moved, the frantic, desperate slamming of bodies against the windows.
As it screeched to a halt in front of them, the glass doors hissed open.
And then the horror spilled out.
Bodies — some stumbling, some crawling — fell from the train like broken dolls, their clothes soaked in blood. Crimson handprints smeared the polished steel walls. A woman staggered out first, blood matting her hair, eyes wild with unspeakable terror.
Behind her, a man crumpled onto the platform, his face twisted in agony, deep gashes torn into his side.
Inside the train, chaos reigned. Passengers clawed at each other to escape, the narrow aisles choked with screams and the sickening sound of flesh slamming against hard surfaces.
Blood splashed against the screens and windows, dripping slowly down like rain.
Daigo stood frozen, his mind struggling to make sense of the nightmare unfolding before him.
Talen cursed under his breath, taking a step back, instinctively putting distance between himself and the horror.
"What the hell..." Daigo whispered, heart hammering against his ribs.
The platform, so recently a place of impatient sighs and waiting, had transformed into a battlefield of the damned.
And above it all, the sky continued to tear itself apart, red light bleeding through the cracks like the first wound of an ending world
Talen stood paralyzed on the platform, his brown eyes wide, his face drained of all color. His body refused to obey, rooted to the spot by the pure, animal terror clawing through him.
A rough tug jolted him back.
"Run!" Daigo barked, his voice slicing through the horror like a whip crack.
Without waiting, Daigo yanked Talen by the arm, nearly dragging him as they bolted through the station's exit.
Outside was no refuge.
The night had exploded into chaos.
People sprinted in all directions, faces twisted in fear, screams filling the thick, smothering air. But it wasn't just people running.
Among the fleeing crowd, others chased — twisted, hunched figures, moving too fast, too wild, their limbs jerking with unnatural violence.
Daigo's blood ran cold when he caught a closer look.
The pursuers weren't normal. Their eyes were entirely white — no pupils, no irises—just orbs locked onto their prey like predators.
And the way they ran — low to the ground, almost on all fours — it was inhuman.
"What the hell is happening?!" Talen gasped, stumbling beside him.
Daigo didn't answer.
There was no time.
Thinking could come later — if there was a later.
Cars screeched and collided on the nearby roads, the metallic screams of bending steel drowning out the human cries. Without hesitation, Daigo sprinted toward a car — a battered old sedan that hadn't yet burst into flames.
He slammed his palm against the window, shouting for help.
The driver didn't respond.
Instead, with a sickening lurch, the man's body slumped sideways, and his head — or half of it — rolled loosely from his shoulders, blood spilling across the seat like spilled ink. A wet thud followed as part of his skull hit the door.
Talen choked on a gasp, his hand flying to his mouth. He took a shaky step back, his entire frame trembling.
Daigo swore under his breath, ripping open the door and hauling Talen inside. The metallic tang of blood hit them immediately, thick and heavy.
"Move it!" Daigo snapped, shoving Talen into the passenger seat.
He fumbled with the blood-slick keys still dangling from the ignition, the car's engine sputtering before finally coughing to life.
"Where-where are we going?!" Talen stammered, glancing frantically out the window at the carnage unfolding around them.
"Home!" Daigo growled, slamming his foot down on the accelerator.
There was no plan, no strategy — just a single, burning thought:
Mom. Dad. Selia.
Alone.
Waiting.
The car lurched forward, weaving clumsily through the wreckage-strewn streets.
Everywhere Daigo looked, the world was unraveling — fire spilling from overturned vehicles, ground trembling under some unseen force, and those things — those white-eyed monsters — prowling the sidewalks, yanking screaming survivors down into pools of blood.
Daigo gritted his teeth, swerving around a fallen traffic light.
"Daigo—Daigo, watch it!" Talen shouted as a figure hurled itself across the road in front of them.
Daigo jerked the wheel violently, the tires screeching, the car fishtailing before he righted it. His hands clenched the steering wheel so hard his knuckles blanched white.
"We're almost there," Daigo muttered through gritted teeth, more to himself than to Talen. He had to believe it. He had to.
Behind them, the sky was still bleeding — a jagged red gash stretching wider by the minute, vomiting light and ash onto the broken earth below. The air smelled of smoke, burnt metal, and something worse — something sickly sweet and rotting.
Talen huddled against the seat, staring blankly ahead.
"What if—" Talen started, his voice cracking."What if they're already—"
"Don't," Daigo cut him off sharply."Don't say it. They're alive. They have to be."
The world around them was collapsing into ruin, but Daigo refused to let the thought take root — the thought that he might already be too late.
He pressed harder on the gas pedal, the battered sedan hurtling toward the only place left that mattered.