The afternoon sun had begun to dip below the skyline, casting long shadows across the park as Yeon-ah and Ji-hoon strolled down the path. The once lively energy of the city seemed to dim, replaced by an eerie stillness. It was subtle, but Yeon-ah couldn't shake the nagging feeling that something was terribly wrong.
Ji-hoon, ever the optimist, was talking about their next family gathering, excited about the possibility of seeing relatives they hadn't met in a while. His voice was calm, filled with warmth and anticipation. But Yeon-ah could barely focus on his words. Her thoughts were elsewhere—locked on the unsettling feeling growing in her chest.
"You're quiet today," Ji-hoon said, looking at her with a hint of concern. "Still thinking about work?"
Yeon-ah shook her head. "No, it's not that." She paused, her steps slowing. "I don't know, oppa. Something feels... off. Like something's coming, but I don't know what."
Ji-hoon chuckled softly, patting her shoulder. "You always overthink things, Yeon-ah. Everything's fine. The world's still turning, the sky's still blue." He spread his arms wide as if to emphasize the normalcy of their surroundings.
But Yeon-ah wasn't convinced. There was a heaviness in the air, a feeling of anticipation that gnawed at the edges of her mind. Something is coming. She wasn't sure what, but it was coming fast.
They reached the small bridge that crossed over the park's pond, the water reflecting the orange hues of the setting sun. For a moment, Yeon-ah tried to push aside her unease, focusing on the beauty of the moment. The light danced across the water, creating ripples that shimmered in the fading light.
Ji-hoon leaned against the railing, looking out over the pond. "Remember when we used to come here as kids?" he said, his voice soft with nostalgia. "We'd chase the ducks around, and mom would yell at us for getting our clothes dirty."
Yeon-ah smiled, the memory bringing a brief sense of comfort. "Yeah, and you always made me go first so you wouldn't get in trouble."
"That's because you were the sneaky one," Ji-hoon grinned. "Mom never suspected you."
They laughed, the tension between them easing for a moment. But even as they shared the lighthearted memory, Yeon-ah's gaze was drawn back to the horizon. The distant cityscape seemed hazy, as if something was obscuring it. The air felt thick, almost oppressive, and for a second, she thought she saw the buildings in the distance sway.
She blinked, rubbing her eyes. "Did you see that?"
Ji-hoon frowned, following her gaze. "See what?"
"The buildings... they were—" She hesitated, unsure if what she had seen was real or just her imagination. "Never mind, I think I'm just tired."
Ji-hoon shrugged it off, but Yeon-ah couldn't. Her phone buzzed again, and with a sigh, she pulled it from her pocket, expecting another work email or trivial notification.
But it wasn't.
Her eyes scanned the screen, the headline making her stomach drop.
"Unexplained seismic events continue—affected regions grow."
She clicked on the article, her heartbeat quickening as she skimmed through the text. It was worse than she had thought. The seismic events weren't just isolated incidents. They were spreading, affecting cities across the globe. Scientists were baffled, unable to pinpoint a cause or predict where the next tremor would strike.
A cold chill ran down her spine. This is real.
Ji-hoon noticed the change in her expression. "What is it?" he asked, stepping closer.
Yeon-ah swallowed, showing him the screen. "Seismic events... they're spreading. It's not just here. It's happening everywhere."
He took the phone from her, his brow furrowing as he read the article. For the first time, his relaxed demeanor shifted. "This doesn't sound good."
"No, it doesn't."
They stood in silence for a moment, the weight of the news settling between them. Yeon-ah's mind raced, trying to make sense of it all. Why was this happening? What could possibly cause seismic activity on such a massive scale?
"Maybe we should head home," Ji-hoon suggested, his voice unusually tense. "If it's spreading, we might need to prepare for... something."
Yeon-ah nodded, though the unease in her chest only grew. They turned back toward the city, their footsteps quickening as the sky darkened.
As they walked, a low rumble vibrated through the ground. It was faint at first, barely noticeable. But then it grew, the tremor becoming more intense. People around them began to stop, confusion spreading across their faces as the shaking continued.
"Is that an earthquake?" someone nearby shouted.
Yeon-ah grabbed Ji-hoon's arm, her heart pounding. The ground beneath them felt unstable, like it could give way at any moment. The buildings around them groaned, the concrete cracking under the pressure of the tremor.
People started to panic, running in all directions, unsure of where to go or what to do. Ji-hoon pulled Yeon-ah toward an open space, away from the buildings that now seemed precariously close to collapsing.
The rumbling intensified, and for a terrifying moment, Yeon-ah thought the world was falling apart. The tremor seemed to last forever, the ground shifting violently beneath their feet. Then, as quickly as it had started, it stopped.
Silence fell over the city, broken only by the distant sound of car alarms and the panicked murmurs of people nearby.
Yeon-ah stood frozen, her heart still racing. What the hell was that? She had never felt anything like it.
Ji-hoon looked at her, his expression grim. "We need to go. Now."
She didn't argue. They began to move, quickly weaving through the scattered crowd. The city that had once felt so familiar now seemed like a dangerous, unpredictable place.
But as they hurried through the streets, Yeon-ah couldn't shake the feeling that this was only the beginning.