Manila, Philippines. September 19, 2024.
The morning in Manila was cool and wet, with a light drizzle falling over the city. Matthew sat in the kitchen, making his usual breakfast—five pieces of pandesal and a cup of creamy hot coffee. As he stirred the coffee with a spoon, the sound of the news on the TV grabbed his attention.
"Breaking news: A meteor shower is expected to pass by tonight at exactly 10:00 p.m…"
Matthew glanced at the TV, but it didn't hold his interest for long. Meteor showers? He had bigger things to worry about—like his upcoming exams and trying to survive another day at school.
He took a bite of his pandesal, washing it down with a sip of coffee, as the news anchor continued.
"Experts are saying this meteor shower will be one of the most visible in recent years. Stargazers are advised to find a clear spot to watch the event."
Matthew shook his head, thinking how he'd probably be inside studying—or more likely, avoiding the bullies at school. His life wasn't exactly filled with excitement, and a meteor shower didn't seem like it would change that.
Just then, his phone buzzed on the table, a message from his sister.
"Don't forget to lock up before you leave."
Matthew sighed. Another normal day.
After finishing his breakfast, Matthew grabbed his worn-out backpack and headed out the door. The rain had lightened up, but the streets were still wet and filled with puddles. As he walked to Manila South High School, he kept his head down, avoiding eye contact with anyone. It wasn't that he hated school; he just didn't want to deal with the usual routine.
Matthew was a Grade 12 STEM student, one of the many in a public high school that was overcrowded and underfunded. He had dreams of becoming an engineer one day, but for now, just making it through the day without trouble was his main goal. Unfortunately, trouble had a way of finding him.
As he walked into the crowded school grounds, he felt it—the familiar shove from behind.
"Watch where you're going, loser," a voice sneered.
Matthew stumbled forward, catching himself before he fell. He turned around and saw the usual suspects: Vince, the tallest and meanest, grinned with that smug look he always had. Behind him stood his buddies, Troy and Eric, both just as nasty. They had been tormenting Matthew for years, but he had learned the hard way that fighting back only made things worse.
"Give us your lunch money, Borja," Vince demanded, stepping closer. "Unless you want another 'lesson.'"
Matthew's heart sank. He barely had enough money for himself, but the last time he said no, he ended up with a black eye. Not wanting to get hurt again, he reached into his pocket and handed over the few bills he had.
"Good boy," Vince mocked, snatching the money and pushing Matthew's shoulder. "Now get lost."
Matthew kept his head down and hurried away. He hated this school because those kinds of people existed. But it's not like he could get out of this school either as his family weren't rich enough to get him transferred to a better school. After all, his mother was just a humble public servant working in the city hall of Manila, while his father was a construction worker. Both of them didn't graduate but they worked hard to provide for him and his sister. The thought of disappointing them was what kept Matthew going. He knew they expected him to finish his education and make something of himself, and despite how tough it was, he didn't want to let them down.
The rest of the school day passed uneventfully, with Matthew keeping to himself and trying to avoid the bullies as much as possible. He sat through lectures on physics and calculus, his mind drifting in and out of focus. His teachers were fine, but the crowded classrooms and the constant stress made it hard to concentrate.
By the time the final bell rang, most students were eager to leave, but Matthew still had Physical Education practice. It was his least favorite part of the day—not because he didn't like sports, but because it meant staying at school longer and facing the possibility of running into Vince and his crew again.
Practice dragged on, with Matthew running laps and doing drills until his muscles burned. By the time it was over, it was already 9:30 p.m., and he was drenched in sweat. The school grounds were mostly deserted by the time he left the gym, and the cool night air was a relief after the stifling gym.
As Matthew walked home, he felt a strange sense of calm. The streets were quiet, with only the occasional car passing by.
Until a loud crack split the air, followed by a blinding flash of light. Matthew stopped in his tracks, his heart pounding in his chest. Just ahead of him, something crashed onto the road with a thud. It was glowing—a rock about the size of a basketball, shimmering with an intense red light.
Matthew's breath caught in his throat. He had never seen anything like it. Slowly, he approached the rock, it was glowing ominously red. His instincts told him to run, but something about the rock drew him in.
What was this? A meteorite? It couldn't be…
He just remembered from the morning news that there was a meteor shower that would show around this time. And he craned his neck up and saw a trailing stream of lights streaking across the sky. The meteor shower was happening, just like the news had said. But this? A meteorite crashing right in front of him? It was surreal.
Matthew hesitated, his heart pounding faster. He glanced around the empty street, wondering if anyone else had seen it. But no one was around. It was just him and the glowing rock. Curiosity got the better of him. He stepped closer, the warmth from the meteorite growing stronger the nearer he got. It wasn't burning hot—just warm, like the glow of embers from a dying fire. He reached out, his hand hovering inches above the surface of the rock.
Without thinking, his fingers brushed the surface.
In an instant, a surge of energy shot through his body like electricity. Matthew gasped, pulling his hand back, but it was too late. The red light from the meteorite flared brighter, enveloping him in a blinding flash. His body trembled, muscles seizing up as an overwhelming power coursed through him.
Matthew fell to his knees, his vision swimming as the energy continued to flow through him, intense and relentless. It felt like his entire body was being rewired, every fiber of his being infused with something beyond human. His senses sharpened—he could hear distant sounds, see every detail of the street in front of him, and even feel the tiniest vibrations in the ground beneath him.
And then, as quickly as it started, the energy faded. The meteorite's red glow dimmed, and the street was plunged back into the quiet darkness of the night.
Matthew breathed heavily. "What the heck just happened?"
He looked at the rock again and saw that it disintegrated into dust. He didn't know what happened but seeing that he was alive and not in pain was already a relief to him as he was certain that he was okay.
Standing up, he walked away from where the meteorite had struck and made his way toward home.
As Matthew walked away, something felt off. The street was still quiet, but his senses were... heightened. Every step he took, every movement around him, seemed amplified. His ears picked up noises he hadn't noticed before—the faint sound of wind rustling through distant trees, the echo of a car horn, though no cars were in sight.
A strange pressure built in his head. The honk of a car became louder, though it was nowhere near him. Then, he heard voices—people talking, though the street was empty.
He stopped, looking around. The voices weren't close by, but it was like he was hearing conversations from far away, as if someone was talking blocks away, and yet he could hear them as clearly as if they were right next to him.
"Hey, did you see that thing fall from the sky?"
"Yeah, it lit up the whole street!"
Matthew spun around, trying to locate where the voices were coming from, but there was no one there. His heart pounded harder. He took out his phone to check the time, but it was dead. The battery had run out earlier during practice, yet, somehow, he was hearing what sounded like a phone ringing—persistent, loud, and clear.
But it wasn't his phone.
The noise was becoming unbearable—conversations, distant car alarms, even the sound of footsteps in an alley far from where he stood. His head swiveled toward the alley instinctively, and though it was too far for a normal person to hear anything, he could make out the faint shuffling of shoes on pavement. It was as if everything around him was being transmitted directly to his brain, amplified beyond comprehension.
He continued his walk towards his house and when he crossed the intersection, still trying to make sense of the overwhelming sounds bombarding his mind, something caught his eye—a truck, barreling down the street at an alarming speed. The headlights were blinding, and in a split second, he realized the driver wasn't slowing down.
Before Matthew could react, the truck slammed into him.
But instead of feeling the impact of steel against flesh, something impossible happened.
The truck didn't send him flying through the air. It didn't crush him beneath its weight. Instead, Matthew felt the front of the truck crumple around him, as if it had struck an unmovable wall. He didn't move an inch, his feet firmly planted on the ground, while the metal of the truck's front end caved inward, crunched like a soda can.
The screech of tires echoed through the night as the truck tipped forward from the sudden, brutal stop. The weight of the vehicle seemed to defy gravity for a moment before it crashed back down onto its wheels with a deafening thud. Steam hissed from the truck's engine, and the driver was thrown forward from the crash brutally.
Matthew stood frozen in place, his mind struggling to process what had just happened. The spot where the truck hit him felt completely fine. No pain, no injuries. He glanced down at his arms and legs—no sign of damage. His clothes weren't even torn.
"What... the..." he whispered, turning to look at the truck, now wrecked and immobile.
He reached out and touched the crumpled hood of the truck, feeling the heat radiating from the mangled engine. It should've killed him. He should've been lying broken on the ground. But here he was, standing completely unharmed.
Wanting to get out from his position, he tried pushing—and to his shock, he managed to push a two-ton truck as if he was just pushing the door to open.
Seemingly, the loud noise produced by the impact of the truck had awakened the entire neighborhood. Lights flickered on in the houses nearby, and doors began to open as people rushed out to see what had caused the deafening crash.
"What happened?"
"Did you hear that crash?"
"Is that a truck? Oh my God, look at the front of it!"
Some had already pulled out their phones, recording videos of the scene, cameras trained on the truck and the street around it.
Matthew ducked his head, pulling his hood up in an attempt to remain unnoticed and fled the scene.