Outside the hospital, the chaos escalated. People flooded the streets, staring at the crimson sky with a mixture of awe and terror. Children clung to their parents, while survivalists shouted from street corners, proclaiming the end of days.
Emergency broadcasts blared from car radios:
"This is a global emergency. Citizens are advised to remain indoors and avoid unnecessary travel. The phenomenon has been classified as a Category Alpha threat. Further instructions will follow."
Despite the warnings, people took to social media, sharing photos, videos, and theories. The internet remained unaffected, providing a lifeline for humanity to connect, to speculate, and to fear.
Ethan barely had time to process the first distant roar before the hospital trembled beneath his feet. The faint hum of the building's advanced machinery was replaced by the wailing of alarms and the chaotic noise of people shouting.
"What the hell is going on?" a nurse yelled, rushing past Ethan with wide eyes, her clipboard clutched tightly to her chest.
"Is it an earthquake?" a doctor asked, gripping the edge of a counter to steady himself as the tremors grew stronger.
Ethan didn't answer. He couldn't. His mind was a storm of thoughts as he moved quickly through the hallway, weaving around staff and patients who had spilled out of their rooms in panic. The usually pristine and orderly hospital was descending into chaos.
The overhead intercom buzzed to life, the automated voice calm but urgent.
"Attention all staff: Please remain indoors and assist patients in stabilizing their locations. Emergency protocols are now in effect.
Ethan barely heard it over the growing commotion. A man in a patient gown clutched a nurse's arm, his face pale. "I saw something," he said, his voice trembling. "Out the window. Something huge—red eyes and horns!"
"It's just your medication wearing off," the nurse assured him, though her own voice was shaky.
A crash from the far end of the hallway drew everyone's attention as a cart of medical supplies toppled over. Another tremor shook the building, sending several people stumbling into the walls.
Ethan pushed forward, his focus narrowing on one thing: Claire. Whatever was happening, she was defenseless. If the hospital collapsed—or worse—he needed to be with her.
On his way to Claire's room, he passed a large window overlooking the city. What he saw froze him in his tracks.
The crimson sky churned like a living thing, the swirling void above expanding, its edges jagged and crackling with an otherworldly energy. Tendrils of black mist spiraled out of it, lashing across the heavens like the limbs of some monstrous entity.
The streets below were a scene of chaos. Cars had stopped in the middle of the road, their drivers stepping out to gape at the sky. People pointed and screamed, their voices muffled through the thick pane of glass.
Then came the roar.
It was louder this time, shaking the very air. It didn't sound like an animal or even a machine—it was something ancient, primal, a sound that carried with it a bone-deep sense of dread.
Ethan felt his chest tighten as he spotted movement in the swirling void. Something was pushing through, forcing its way into their world. He turned away from the window and kept moving, his heart pounding.
The further Ethan walked, the worse the commotion grew. Patients were crying, staff were shouting instructions, and the wail of alarms added to the pandemonium.
"We need to evacuate!" someone yelled.
"Evacuate to where?" another voice countered. "Did you see the sky? There's nowhere to go! In fact going out might put us in even more danger than we are now!"
A group of paramedics rushed past Ethan, wheeling a man on a stretcher. Blood covered the patient's arm, though it didn't look like an ordinary injury—it was charred, as if something had burned through his flesh.
"What happened to him?" Ethan called out.
"Some kind of energy blast!" one of the paramedics replied. "Came out of nowhere. We've got dozens more incoming!"
Ethan clenched his fists, forcing himself to stay calm. He had to focus. Claire was all that mattered right now.
The current situation is out of hand he feared that soon that this hospital of his won't be able to contain more patients, but now's not the time to worry about that, Claire matters to him the most right now...
---
Just as he turned the corner to Claire's room, another roar shook the building, louder and more distinct. It was followed by a deep, guttural rumble that made Ethan's stomach churn.
The hallway windows rattled violently, and several cracked under the strain. Ethan instinctively ducked as one of them shattered completely, sending shards of glass spraying across the floor.
Through the now-broken window, he had an unobstructed view of the sky.
And he saw it.
A massive head was emerging from the swirling void, its sheer size defying comprehension. The creature's face was an amalgamation of nightmares, a grotesque Chimera made flesh.
The lion's head was the most prominent, its fiery red eyes scanning the city below with a terrifying intelligence. Its mane wasn't hair but writhing tendrils of black energy that pulsed and shifted like living shadows.
To its right was a goat's head, its jagged horns crackling with bolts of crimson lightning. Its jaw hung open, revealing a maw filled with unnaturally sharp teeth.
And to the left, a serpent's head coiled and hissed, its forked tongue flicking out as venom dripped from its fangs, sizzling as it hit the air.
Ethan could only stare, paralyzed by the sheer scale of the creature. It wasn't fully out of the void yet, but what little had emerged was enough to cast a massive shadow over the city. The beast roared again, and the sound sent waves of panic through the streets below.
The Chimera's lion head tilted back, and its maw began to glow with an eerie red light. Energy crackled around it, forming a massive sphere of power that radiated a heat Ethan could feel even from inside the hospital.