Chapter 3: Beacon
“This is a catastrophe, and we have no idea what's going on.”
Those words marked the first official message delivered to the world.
They came from the President of Cuba, his face pal, his voice carrying the weight of a man who had been handed a nightmare no nation was prepared to face.
On May 5th, 2027, humanity suffered its greatest calamity.
With no warning, close to one percent of the global population lost consciousness.
Their bodies are still breathing, their hearts still beating, yet their minds no longer respond.
Doctors described them as a blank slate of paper.
By the end of the week, the World Health Organization had acknowledged what was believed to be impossible. 83 million people had fallen unconscious across the globe. Millions more died in the chaos that followed. Cars collided with the crowd after the drivers lost consciousness. Pilots were discovered slumped in their seats, and in extreme cases, even backup pilots passed out, causing planes to fall from the sky.
Within hours, people overwhelmed hospitals. Police forces collapsed. Families desperately searched cities for their loved ones. And for the first time in modern history, every government on Earth was forced to admit the same terrifying truth. No one knew why.
During the second week of the incident, the United Nations headquarters in New York turned into the world's focal point. G7 leaders, Security Council members, and delegates from all affected countries assembled in the hall. The usual political distance was gone. The Secretary-General stood at the front. His hands gripped the sides of the podium as he looked over the hall, his face worn by exhaustion.
“Before we begin, we will honor the lives already lost in this catastrophe.”
The screens behind him lit up with numbers.
Estimated unconscious: 83,214,602
Estimated dead due to secondary incidents: 6,912,014
Estimated displaced or injured: 41,000,000 and rising
A heavy silence fell over the room.
No one moved.
For one full minute, the world’s leaders stood in silence.
When the silence ended, the Prime Minister of Japan was the first to request the floor.
He walked to the podium with a folder in his hand and a face that had lost all color.
"Our scientists and emergency response teams have put together an initial statistical report," he began.
I want to emphasize that these figures are not yet complete. Yet, the pattern is too unusual to overlook.
The main screen changed. A marked world map with red points was shown. The red dots indicated areas where the most people had lost consciousness. The initial assumption among many was that the darkest areas would correspond to the most populated regions. China. India. United States. Indonesia. Brazil. But they were not. The markings were alarmingly even between regions.
Japan’s Prime Minister continued, his voice lower now.
“The number of unconscious people does not appear to follow population density. Despite having populations over one billion, China and India show numbers alarmingly close to countries like Finland, Sweden, and Norway.”
Murmurs spread through the chamber.
He turned toward the screen and pointed to the data.
“The same pattern repeats across continents. The Middle East and Africa report figures similar to North and South America. A similar pattern emerges in Europe, irrespective of the differing populations of each country.”
The room grew colder.
“Based on this distribution,” he said, “we must consider the possibility that this was not random. Else regions with higher propulsion should have shown higher number of unconscious people.”
The word lingered in the air like a blade. Had it been random, it’d be terrible, but if it was intentional? That was absolutely frightening.
Following that, the President of the United States stood. He skipped the usual formalities. His voice was calm.
“If any nation, organization, faction, or entity is responsible for this attack, then hear me clearly.”
The room fell silent.
Step forward. Confess. Describe your actions and how to undo them.
He leaned closer to the microphone.
Should you fail to comply, and we identify those responsible, the repercussions will extend beyond a single country.”
Several representatives exchanged uneasy looks. The American president’s eyes hardened.
“And when that happens, there will be nowhere to hide.”
No one blamed him for aggression. Because every leader present in that room shared the same thought.
The existence of something that could wipe out 83 million people in a day meant the world was already at war. They just didn’t know who it was.
The Security Council managed to reach a deal that seemed impossible a few days ago.
Every ongoing war needed to pause immediately.
Ceasefires were to be implemented in all active conflict zones. Military resources were to be shifted towards stabilization, evacuation, medical transport, and civilian protection.
The statement was read aloud before the assembly.
“Until the nature of this event is understood, humanity cannot afford to continue fighting itself.”
The countries least able to manage the collapse would receive aid first. Within 24 hours, food, medicine, emergency generators, temporary shelters, and medical personnel were to be sent out.
Then, a second resolution was put forth. Crime rates had gone up around the world. Looting and violence broke out in several major cities as police departments were weakened. Nations that were already stretched thin had no choice but to request help.
In response, a temporary global security agreement was drafted. Major powers would provide support to smaller and vulnerable states, not as occupying forces, but as emergency stabilizing units under international watch.
That last part became the focus of the next emergency measure. 83 million unconscious people needed shelter, food, medical care, and protection.
The WHO proposed the creation of protected field hospitals in stadiums, schools, military bases, airports, and open land outside major cities. These facilities would provide medical help and also act as guarded zones to prevent harm from reaching the unconscious people.
The sun had gone down by the end of the meeting. Leaders inside the United Nations headquarters remained seated even after the cameras stopped rolling.
Humanity had made its first united decision, but far away from the assembly hall, beyond the reach of cameras and satellites, someone watched in silence.
The figure sat in darkness, the glow of the screen reflecting faintly against a calm, smiling face. On the screen, the world’s leaders spoke of unity, survival, justice, and retaliation. The smile widened. Then a soft laugh escaped from the darkness.
Then, the figure stooped and murmured:
“Time for the game to begin.”
I have no idea when I passed out. One moment, I was looking at the crucified bodies. Right after, everything went dark.
When I opened my eyes again, I was on the floor, gasping for air. For a few seconds, I couldn’t tell what had been real. The bodies were gone. The crows were gone. Only the ruined city remained.
I pressed a trembling hand to my face.
“Was that… an illusion? No, that can’t be. It felt so real.”
Too spooked and scared, I decided to return to wherever I came from and call it a day
“This is too much for me to handle; I can’t”
As I was planning to leave, I heard a sound from a distance. The voice is like electricity that is discharging or something that is turning on like a car but much more subtle.
Hoping for a chance to see another human, I hurriedly pursued the distant sound. While advancing, I remained concealed, aware that the enemy responsible for the human massacre might be the one awaiting my arrival.
I reach a small hill that surveys the other side well,while also providing cover. As I cautiously peek my head, I witness a scene that seems otherworldly.
I saw two humanoid life forms: a tall, masculine male with bones protruding from his shoulders like an arc. In contrast, a person in complete military armor, a robe, and a gas mask was visible, their face completely concealed.
It's obvious that the masculine man belongs to the bone race. The only difference from the photo is that their skeletal form seems to glow with an otherworldly blue hue. It's a sight that's both majestic and terrifying. It feels like energy is flowing through his entire body.
The intriguing part of this situation is that the individual in military attire is carrying a recognizable weapon. An M1903 Springfield with a bigger upper handguard and a muzzle that is short and wide instead of long and sharp, suggesting the projectile might not be a bullet but something different.
It would seem that they were about to fight. That was obviously so from the hostile looks from the bone creature.
With a steady hand, the soldier aims his weapon before firing, Mr. Bones shifted to the right with speed unfathomable and then lunged forward to devour the soldier. The distance between them is 50 meters yet he crossed it in 2 seconds which reinforces the idea that this bone race is not to be messed with.
As the bone creature lunges forward, the soldier fires an energy projectile streaking through the air with deadly precision. It crashes into the bone creature, releasing a burst of energy that shreds its glowing bones, making it convulse.
From the looks of it, the bone creature will not last long. As I was waiting to see the result of the duel, the soldier aimed his weapon at my location.
Scared shitless and not wishing to end up like the bone creature, I ducked as fast as possible and shouted: “I’M ALSO HUMAN!”
I heard a reply: “You can come out. I won’t hurt you.”
I said: “How can I make sure of that?”
The soldier, out of patience, said with an urgent tone: “Are you from Earth?”
With no concern for my answer or fear of any harm I could cause, the soldier approached the bone race creature with calm steps.
He took out a knife and started carving out the protruding bones. After removing each one, like he has done it thousands of times, he looks at me for a few seconds, sizing me up and down.
He nods his head, turns around and starts walking in the other direction.
Not wanting to waste any more time since this is sufficient to identify the soldier's race. I sprinted towards him. Upon reaching him, I exclaimed, "Another human, seriously?" Where are we? What are those creatures? How do we get out of here?”
Feeling somewhat irritated by the loud voice and the multiple questions, the soldier said: “Follow me; we can’t talk here. It’s not safe.”
As we moved, the soldier led the way. We made our way through the maze-like ruins. After a couple of hours, the sun is about to set and there seems to be no end to our walk. I didn’t complain one bit since this soldier is my ticket for survival, but that didn’t change the fact that I was exhausted mentally and physically.
Just when I’m about to lose hope, the soldier said: “We have arrived.”
My gaze fell on another ruined building as I surveyed the empty landscape. On the ground floor, a dark, heavy metal door stood out with two narrow slits that seemed to conceal LMGs.
The soldier stepped forward and said, "Carl, we've reached our destination." Yet, Carl's bewilderment was palpable as another soldier revealed himself through an additional gap in the door, prompting Carl to inquire, "We?"
The soldier insisted, "Yes, 'we'. Now, open up."
The guard opened the door and let us into the bunker.
We followed him down a narrow stairwell, deeper beneath the ground. The noise from outside faded with every step until the only sound left was our footsteps..
The bunker opened into a dim network of corridors at its base. The hallways branched off in different directions, their damp walls glowing under flickering fluorescent lights. The air carried scents of damp soil, rust, and aged metal.
Despite the darkness that surrounded us, there was a sense of safety within the bunker.
The soldier said: “Welcome to the last human shelter in this hell. We call it Beacon.”