The air was heavy with the scent of rot and damp concrete as we climbed back onto the rooftops. My chest heaved, still recovering from the fight below, but Elias barely looked winded. He was calm, irritatingly so, like this was just another day for him.
I sat on the edge of the roof, letting the wind cool my skin. Below us, the streets were quiet again, save for the occasional groan of the Faded echoing in the distance.
“That was reckless,” Elias said, breaking the silence.
“Don’t start.”
“You almost got yourself killed for someone you don’t even know.”
I shot him a glare. “She was a kid.”
He didn’t argue, just leaned against a rusted vent and crossed his arms. “You’ve got a good heart, Liora. But good hearts don’t last long out here.”
I hated the way he said my name, like he knew me. Like we had history.
“Why are you really here?” I asked, cutting straight to the point. “You know my name, and now you’re following me around like a stray. Spill it.”
Elias tilted his head, his lips quirking into a small, almost smug smile. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”
“Try me.”
For a moment, he just stared at me, like he was weighing how much to say. Then, with a quiet sigh, he rolled up the sleeve of his jacket.
My breath caught in my throat.
Etched into his forearm was a map—no, not a tattoo. The lines were jagged and uneven, like they’d been burned into his skin. The scar tissue shimmered faintly in the dim light, the patterns intricate and precise.
“What the hell is that?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.
Elias didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he pointed to one of the markings, a small X near the top of the map. “This is where we are,” he said. “Or close enough.”
“You’re telling me that’s... a map?”
He nodded. “It’s more than a map. It’s a key.”
I stared at him, trying to process what he was saying. “To what?”
“To the truth.”
I laughed, a sharp, bitter sound that echoed across the empty rooftops. “You’re insane.”
“Maybe,” he said, his tone too calm for my liking. “But look at your wrist, Liora. Tell me you don’t have one too.”
I froze.
My hand moved on its own, pulling back the sleeve of my jacket. At first, I saw nothing but pale skin and a faint dusting of old scars. But then, as I turned my wrist under the light, I saw it.
A faint, circular scar, just below my palm. It wasn’t a map like Elias’s, but the edges were jagged, and the center had a strange, almost unnatural texture.
“How...” My voice faltered as I stared at it.
“It’s not a coincidence,” Elias said. “You and I are connected to this, whether we like it or not.”
I shook my head, my pulse pounding in my ears. “No. I don’t know you. I’ve never seen you before today.”
“Not all scars are visible,” he said softly.
Before I could respond, a sharp pain flared in my wrist, spreading like fire up my arm. I gasped, clutching it as my vision blurred.
The world around me seemed to shift, the edges of reality bending and warping.
Flashes of images.
A sterile room filled with blinking monitors.
Voices arguing in hushed tones.
A name repeated over and over—my name.
A hand reaching for mine, pulling me into darkness.
Then it was gone.
I blinked, the rooftop coming back into focus. My wrist throbbed, the circular scar pulsing faintly under my fingers.
“What did you see?” Elias asked, his voice steady but laced with curiosity.
I stared at him, my mind racing. “Nothing. It’s nothing.”
He frowned but didn’t push. “That scar on your wrist—it’s part of this. Part of what happened to the world.”
I shook my head, refusing to believe it. “You’re insane. None of this makes sense.”
“Liora, listen to me.” He stepped closer, his dark eyes locking onto mine. “The Faded, the collapse of everything—it didn’t just happen. Someone caused it. And you and I? We were part of it.”
The words hit me like a physical blow. “No. I would remember—”
“Would you?” he cut me off. “Think about it. How much do you really remember before everything fell apart?”
I opened my mouth to argue, but the words wouldn’t come.
How much did I remember?
The truth was... not much. Just fragments. Images. Feelings.
Elias took my silence as an answer. “Whatever happened to us, it took more than just the world. It took our memories too.”
I turned away, my hands trembling. “I don’t believe you.”
“You don’t have to,” he said. “But that map on my arm? It’s leading us somewhere. And if you want answers, you’ll come with me.”
I clenched my fists, the weight of his words pressing down on me. He was lying. He had to be.
But deep down, a part of me—the part that still remembered those flashes of images—wasn’t so sure.
“What’s at the end of the map?” I asked finally, my voice barely above a whisper.
Elias’s expression hardened. “The truth. And if we don’t find it, this world is never going to heal.”
I stared at him, torn between disbelief and a gnawing curiosity.
“Fine,” I said at last, the word tasting bitter on my tongue. “But if you’re lying to me...”
“I’m not,” he said firmly.
The certainty in his voice scared me more than anything else.
As we descended the rooftop and began our journey, the faint pulses from the scar on my wrist grew stronger. And for the first time in years, I wasn’t just running to survive.
I was running toward something.
We moved through the abandoned streets in silence, the faint growls of the Faded fading into the distance. The map burned in the back of my mind, as did the scar on my wrist. Each throb felt like it carried a hidden message, one I wasn’t ready to decipher.
Elias walked a few steps ahead, his crowbar resting on his shoulder. There was something infuriating about his calmness, as if he knew everything and was just waiting for me to catch up.
“So,” I finally said, breaking the silence. “How long have you had that map on your arm?”
He glanced over his shoulder but didn’t stop walking. “Since the beginning.”
“The beginning of what?”
“The end.”
I rolled my eyes. “Napaka-dramatic mo naman.”
He stopped abruptly and turned to face me, his expression unusually serious. “I’m not trying to be dramatic. I woke up one day with this burned into my skin. No explanation. No memory of how it got there. Just the overwhelming feeling that I needed to follow it.”
I frowned, my fingers brushing over the scar on my wrist. “You’re saying you don’t remember anything before?”
“Bits and pieces,” he admitted, his gaze distant. “Nothing that makes sense. Just… flashes. Faces I can’t place. A room with bright lights. And pain.”
His words struck something deep within me, a memory I couldn’t quite reach. The scar on my wrist throbbed again, as if it were trying to remind me of something.
“Liora,” Elias said, stepping closer. “When did you get yours?”
I hesitated. “I don’t know. Matagal na siguro.”
“You’ve never wondered what it means?”
“Of course I have,” I snapped, stepping back. “But wondering doesn’t get you food or keep you alive. It’s just another mystery in a world full of them.”
Elias studied me for a moment, then nodded. “Fair enough. But I think this isn’t just another mystery. I think it’s the key to everything.”
“Ang dami mong alam,” I muttered, but his words unsettled me.
We continued walking, the silence between us heavy with unspoken questions. The ruins of the town gave way to open fields, the ground cracked and dry underfoot. The sky above was a dull gray, the kind of color that made it impossible to tell the time of day.
Finally, Elias spoke again. “There’s a location nearby. It’s marked on the map.”
I glanced at him. “What’s there?”
“I don’t know,” he admitted. “But I think it’s important. The map has led me to places before—some were dead ends, others weren’t. This one feels different.”
“Different how?”
He hesitated. “I don’t know. Just... trust me.”
I snorted. “Yeah, because trusting strangers has worked out so well for me in the past.”
Elias stopped walking again, his expression hardening. “You saved my life back there. You didn’t have to, but you did. And whether you like it or not, we’re connected. That scar on your wrist proves it. So you can keep acting like you don’t care, or you can help me figure this out. Your call.”
I glared at him, every instinct screaming at me to turn around and leave him behind. But the scar on my wrist throbbed again, and a faint memory flickered in the back of my mind—a room filled with light, a voice calling my name, and the faint outline of a map glowing on someone’s arm.
“Fine,” I said through gritted teeth. “Let’s see where this map of yours leads.”
Elias gave me a small, almost grateful smile. “You won’t regret this.”
“Siguraduhin mo lang,” I muttered, pushing past him.
We walked for another hour, the tension between us easing slightly as the ruins grew smaller behind us. The land ahead was barren and lifeless, the kind of place the Faded rarely ventured.
Eventually, we reached a crumbling structure half-buried in the ground. It looked like an old bunker, the metal door rusted and barely hanging on its hinges.
“This is it,” Elias said, his voice low.
I frowned, the sight of the bunker stirring something deep within me. It was familiar in a way I couldn’t explain. “Ano’ng meron dito?”
“I don’t know,” he admitted, stepping closer. “But we’re about to find out.”
The bunker door groaned as Elias pushed it open, the sound echoing into the dark void beyond. A faint, stale breeze wafted out, carrying the scent of dust and something metallic.
I tightened my grip on my knife. “If this gets us killed, I’m blaming you.”
“Fair enough,” he said with a faint smirk.
We stepped inside, the darkness swallowing us whole.
And then the lights flickered on, one by one, illuminating the corridor ahead.
“Tangina,” I whispered, my heart pounding. The walls were lined with screens, each one flickering with static. At the end of the hallway was a door, and etched into the metal was a symbol—a map.
Elias stared at it, his jaw tight. “It’s the same as the one on my arm.”
The scar on my wrist burned, and for a brief moment, I saw something—flashes of people in lab coats, their faces blurred, and the sound of a voice whispering my name.
“Liora.”
I stumbled back, my vision swimming.
“Liora!” Elias caught my arm, steadying me. “What’s wrong?”
“I... I don’t know,” I said, shaking my head. “Something about this place... it feels wrong.”
“Or maybe it’s exactly where we’re supposed to be,” he said, his voice steady.
I met his gaze, the uncertainty in his eyes mirrored in my own. Whatever lay beyond that door, I knew it was the beginning of something—answers, or maybe just more questions.
“Let’s get this over with,” I said, stepping forward.
Elias followed, and together, we pushed open the door.
The faint hum grew louder as Elias and I approached the bunker. It wasn’t just sound anymore—it was vibration, low and ominous, like the heartbeat of something alive. My grip tightened on the knife in my hand, my pulse mirroring the unsettling rhythm.
“Stay close,” Elias whispered, his voice barely audible over the eerie thrum.
I didn’t need to be told twice. My eyes darted to the shadows around us, the oppressive silence of the outside world creeping into my bones. This place felt wrong, sobrang mali.
The entrance was half-buried under rubble, but enough of the steel hatch remained visible to confirm we were in the right place. Strange symbols were etched into its surface, worn by time but unmistakable. They looked like markings I’d seen in the flashes of memory earlier, but the meaning was just out of reach, teasing me.
Elias knelt beside the hatch, his fingers brushing over the symbols as if they’d speak to him. “These are coordinates,” he murmured. “They’re part of a pattern. We’re close to the center.”
“Center of what?” I asked sharply, the unease in my voice cutting through the air.
He glanced at me, the dim light casting shadows across his face. “The beginning.”
Before I could demand an explanation, a sharp, metallic screech pierced the air. We both froze.
“Did you touch something?” I hissed.
“No,” Elias said quickly, stepping back from the hatch. His hand hovered over the crowbar at his side, ready for anything.
The screeching continued, louder now, as the hatch began to shift. Dust and debris fell away as it groaned open, revealing a dark, yawning void beneath. The hum we’d heard before turned into a pulsating drone, the kind that seemed to crawl under your skin and set your teeth on edge.
“Hindi ako sigurado kung gusto ko ‘tong puntahan,” I muttered, my instincts screaming at me to run.
“Too late now,” Elias said grimly.
A rush of cold air blasted out from the opening, carrying with it the unmistakable scent of decay. My stomach churned, and I raised my knife instinctively. But nothing came out—at least, not yet.
We exchanged a look, the unspoken question hanging between us: Do we go in?
Elias reached into his bag, pulling out a flashlight. Its weak beam sliced through the darkness, illuminating a narrow set of stairs leading down into the unknown. The light flickered once, twice, before steadying.
“Typical horror movie stuff,” I muttered under my breath.
Elias smirked faintly. “You scared?”
“Of course not.” Liar.
He started descending the steps, his movements cautious but deliberate. I followed, my heart pounding harder with every step we took. The air grew colder, heavier, the walls slick with condensation. My boots echoed faintly against the concrete, a sound that made my skin crawl.
At the bottom of the stairs was a heavy metal door, slightly ajar. Faint blue light seeped through the crack, casting eerie shadows on the walls. Elias pushed it open with the crowbar, the screech of metal against metal echoing like a scream.
The room beyond was massive, its walls lined with monitors that flickered erratically, displaying images I couldn’t fully process. Maps, numbers, and symbols flashed across the screens, too fast for my mind to make sense of them. In the center of the room was a cylindrical tank filled with a strange, glowing liquid.
And inside the tank—
“Diyos ko,” I breathed, taking an involuntary step back.
A figure floated in the liquid, its form unmistakably human yet utterly wrong. Its skin was pale and translucent, veins pulsing with a sickly green glow. Its eyes were open, unseeing, and its mouth was frozen in a silent scream.
“Is that—?” Elias started, but he didn’t finish. He didn’t need to.
The monitors suddenly shifted, their chaotic display replaced by a single, haunting message:
“WELCOME BACK, LIORA.”
The words sent a chill down my spine, and I turned to Elias, but his wide-eyed expression mirrored my own confusion.
“How does it know my name?” I whispered, my voice barely audible.
Before he could answer, the figure in the tank twitched. Its head jerked to the side, and its unseeing eyes locked onto me. The tank began to shudder, cracks spidering across the glass as the glowing liquid started to leak out.
“Run,” Elias said, his voice tight with panic.
But I couldn’t move. I was frozen, rooted to the spot as the thing inside the tank slammed a hand against the glass, its distorted features contorting into something primal, something hungry.
And then the tank shattered.