The SupraGen Analyzer on the far wall pinged softly, signaling the end of a routine scan. Ethan glanced at it, his sharp eyes picking up the latest update on Claire's deteriorating cellular health. He clenched his jaw, frustration mounting. For all his brilliance, he couldn't stop the inevitable—at least, not yet.
A soft sound pulled his attention back to Claire. Her hand moved slightly, reaching for his. He clasped it firmly, his thumb brushing over her knuckles.
"I'm sorry," she whispered, her voice trembling.
"For what?" Ethan asked, his brow furrowing.
"For being… a burden," she said, tears forming at the corners of her eyes.
Ethan's chest tightened, and he shook his head vehemently. "Don't ever say that. You're not a burden, Claire. You're my reason. My reason to keep going, to keep fighting. Do you hear me?"
Her tears fell silently, and Ethan leaned in to wipe them away with the pad of his thumb. He cupped her face gently, his voice softening. "You've been through so much. And I know it's not fair. But I need you to hold on, just a little longer. I promise, I'll find a way."
Claire nodded weakly, her eyes heavy with exhaustion. She whispered something too faint to hear, and Ethan leaned in closer.
"Don't leave me…" she murmured, barely audible.
"I won't," Ethan said, his voice resolute. "I'll never leave you."
For a moment, the weight of the world seemed to ease as Claire drifted back into a fragile sleep. Ethan stayed still, his hand never leaving hers. He studied her face, committing it to memory, as though afraid that even a single second of her presence might slip away.
Finally, with great reluctance, he stood up. He adjusted the TempReg Blanket over her, ensuring she was comfortable, and placed a gentle kiss on her forehead.
"I'll be back," he whispered, though the words felt hollow even to him.
'While I want to spend as much time as possible with her, I want to find a cure as soon as possible'
With this thought in mind he stepped back, he took a deep breath and turned to leave. The door hissed open as the biometric sensors registered his departure. Before stepping out, he glanced back one last time, taking in the sight of Claire's fragile figure bathed in the soft glow of the monitors.
As the door slid shut behind him, the weight of the moment hit him like a tidal wave. He leaned against the wall, his hand clenched into a fist, his mind racing with equal parts desperation and determination.
'I can't lose her. Not like this. Not ever.'
***
Ethan's footsteps echoed in the hospital corridor, his mind a tangled web of worry and fatigue. He glanced at his watch—just past noon.
The faint buzz of his phone in his pocket jolted him back to the present. Fishing it out, he frowned at the dozens of notifications lighting up the screen.
News alerts, social media updates, and frantic messages from colleagues filled the screen, all mentioning the same thing. "The sky…"
Curiosity piqued, Ethan moved to the nearest window and froze.
The sky—once a bright, serene blue—was now a swirling sea of crimson, streaked with tendrils of black mist. At its center loomed an enormous, swirling void, its sheer size so immense it blanketed the horizon. The void churned like a living entity, radiating a faint, unnatural hum that resonated in his chest.
Strange, guttural roars echoed from the void, faint but unmistakable. They sounded beastly, otherworldly, as though some monstrous creatures were just beyond the veil, waiting to descend.
Panic gripped the streets below. Cars screeched to a halt, their drivers stepping out to stare at the sky in terror. Pedestrians crowded together, their faces pale with fear as they pointed and muttered frantically.
Ethan's phone buzzed again, pulling him away from the window. He unlocked it, immediately bombarded by a deluge of messages, posts, and theories on what was happening.
---
Social Media Feed:
@SkyWatcher: "What in the actual hell is this? Is it an eclipse? A military experiment? Someone explain before I lose my mind!"
@ApocalypseNow: "The prophecies were true. This is the End Times. Repent now, or face the wrath of the heavens!"
@AstroFacts: "Astrophysicists are baffled. No prior data suggested a phenomenon like this. This void isn't a natural occurrence."
@EarthDefenseLeague: "This has to be an alien invasion. Those sounds are not of this world. Governments need to act NOW."
@DoomChaser99: "I told y'all the apocalypse was coming. The Four Horsemen are on their way. This is it, folks!"
@SurvivalistDaily: "We're looking at either dimensional rift theory or a catastrophic shift in universal constants. Stock up on supplies. Trust no one."
---
Each theory felt worse than the last, and Ethan's grip on the phone tightened. He opened a live news feed, the anchor's voice trembling as she attempted to deliver updates.
"We are witnessing an unprecedented phenomenon. Experts are unable to determine the cause of the swirling void that has appeared over the planet. Authorities are urging citizens to remain calm and stay indoors."
The feed cut to a shaky video taken by a civilian. In the clip, a shadowed figure—distorted and massive—briefly appeared at the edge of the void before vanishing. The camera operator screamed, and the video abruptly ended.
Ethan's heart raced as he scrolled through more posts. Theories of apocalyptic beasts descending from the void. Rumors of governments collapsing under the pressure. Predictions of humanity's extinction.
His thoughts immediately snapped to Claire. He imagined her lying in that fragile state, surrounded by advanced technology that now seemed utterly insignificant in the face of what was happening. Could she survive this chaos? Could he protect her?
"No," Ethan muttered, his voice trembling. "Not her. Not like this."
He turned, hurrying back toward Claire's room. He needed to be by her side, needed to reassure her—and himself—that everything would be fine. Yet deep down, he knew the world as he had known it was changing, collapsing into something far beyond his control.