The hour dragged on like the weight of Rovia's uncertain future. The room was dim, illuminated only by the flickering light of the television. Rukius sat on the edge of his seat, fidgeting nervously, while I leaned back, watching the screen with feigned disinterest. The truth was, my mind raced.
What could the President possibly say that we didn't already know?
When the broadcast began, the President appeared haggard, his face lined with exhaustion. He adjusted his tie as he stared into the camera, his voice measured but heavy.
"Citizens of Rovia," he began, his tone grave. "Today, I address you not as your leader but as a man humbled by forces far beyond our understanding. Five days ago, the first reconnaissance team crossed through the anomaly. Tonight, I bring you their findings."
The silence was deafening. Even Rukius stopped his incessant movements, his eyes fixed on the screen.
"What lies beyond the anomaly," the President continued, "is not just alien but hostile. The team encountered entities unlike anything we've ever imagined—intelligent, organized, and dangerous."
My breath hitched. He wasn't sugarcoating it. The man knew we were past the point of false assurances.
"Most of the team…" he faltered for a moment, his voice catching. "Did not survive."
Rukius let out a strangled gasp, and I clenched my jaw.
"The anomaly," the President pressed on, "is not a random event. It is deliberate, and its appearance in Rovia is no coincidence. Our nation has become the focal point of an unprecedented crisis. But there is hope."
The word hung in the air, almost mocking in its optimism.
"Our scientists have determined that the anomaly interacts with an energy source unique to Rovia. This energy, found deep within our land, may hold the key to neutralizing the threat. To harness it, we will need the cooperation and resilience of every Rovian citizen. The military will begin strategic evacuations to ensure the safety of our people while we act."
The screen shifted to a map of Rovia, red zones marking areas near the anomaly. Orion was at the center of it all—a glowing bullseye on the map.
"Stay alert. Stay united. We will endure."
The broadcast ended abruptly, leaving a hollow silence in its wake.
"Well, we're doomed," Rukius muttered, slumping back into his chair.
Joan, who had joined us midway through the speech, frowned. "It's not hopeless. They said there's a plan."
I scoffed. "A plan based on what? A magical energy source we've never heard of before? Sounds more like desperation to me."
Joan crossed her arms, her gaze steady. "What's the alternative? Giving up?"
Her words struck a nerve, and I turned away, focusing instead on the cracks in the wall. Outside, the curfew sirens wailed once more, their mournful tones a constant reminder of how fragile our lives had become.
---
The evacuation order came sooner than expected.
At first, it was just a distant hum—a low rumble that grew louder by the second. Then came the lights, piercing through the darkness as military trucks rolled into the neighborhood. Soldiers, armed and armored, began knocking on doors, their voices firm but not unkind.
"Mandatory evacuation. Gather your essentials and prepare to leave immediately."
Rukius panicked, scrambling to pack his things, while Joan remained unnervingly calm. I grabbed my backpack, already half-packed from years of habit, and slung it over my shoulder.
When the soldiers reached our door, they were efficient but polite. "You'll be taken to a safe zone," one of them said, his face obscured by a helmet. "Stay together and follow instructions."
We were herded into the streets, joining a stream of neighbors who looked just as bewildered as we felt. Joan walked beside me, her hand clutching the strap of her bag tightly. Rukius hovered close behind, his paranoia manifesting in nervous glances over his shoulder.
The trucks were large, their flatbeds filled with hastily arranged seats. We climbed aboard, the cold metal biting through our clothes. The air was tense, filled with murmurs of speculation and fear.
"Why are they moving us now?" an elderly man asked, his voice trembling.
"Probably to keep us away from whatever's coming," a woman replied grimly.
As the truck began to move, I glanced back at the neighborhood. The buildings, bathed in the eerie glow of streetlights, looked almost peaceful—a stark contrast to the turmoil inside each home.
The journey was long and uneventful, the monotony broken only by the occasional checkpoint. Soldiers scanned the horizon with wary eyes, their weapons at the ready. I tried to sleep but found no solace in the rattling confines of the truck.
It wasn't until we reached the safe zone—a sprawling compound surrounded by high fences and guarded towers—that the gravity of our situation truly sank in.
We were led into a large hall, where cots had been arranged in neat rows. The air smelled of disinfectant and damp fabric.
"This is temporary," one of the soldiers assured us. "You'll be assigned more permanent accommodations soon."
I didn't believe him, but I nodded anyway.
---
The next morning, the compound buzzed with activity. People milled about, their expressions a mix of confusion and resignation. Joan, ever the optimist, volunteered to help distribute food. Rukius, on the other hand, stayed glued to my side, his paranoia growing with each passing moment.
"They're not telling us everything," he whispered, his eyes darting around. "This isn't just about the anomaly. There's something else going on."
I sighed, too tired to argue. "And what do you suggest we do about it? Stage a rebellion with our bare hands?"
He scowled but said nothing.
That evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, a strange light appeared in the sky. It was faint at first—a pulsing, bluish glow that seemed to ripple through the clouds. People gathered outside, their faces turned upward in awe and fear.
"What is that?" Joan asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
"I don't know," I admitted, my stomach twisting with unease.
The light grew brighter, casting an otherworldly glow over the compound. Then, just as suddenly as it had appeared, it vanished, leaving behind an oppressive silence.
The night was restless, filled with whispers of the unknown. I lay awake on my cot, staring at the ceiling as my mind churned with unanswered questions.
Why here? Why us?
And what did the anomaly really want?
The answers, I feared, would come sooner than we were ready for.