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.
Pushing past his shock, Ethan ran the last few steps to Claire's door and burst inside. The monitors hummed softly, oblivious to the chaos outside. Claire lay on the bed, her chest rising and falling with shallow breaths, her face peaceful but pale.
Of course she wouldn't be in this room in the first place if this room isn't more secure than other patient's rooms, even if the hospital itself was to collapse this room would still be relatively okay, but it wouldn't if the beast in the sky were to inadvertently target this room.
He moved quickly to check her vitals, his hands shaking. The numbers were stable for now, but for how long? The hospital itself felt like it was moments from collapse.
Another tremor shook the building, and Ethan staggered, catching himself against the edge of Claire's bed. The beast outside released its energy, and the city trembled as a beam of destruction cut through the skyline. Ethan glanced at the window, the distant glow of fire reflecting in his eyes.
Taking Claire's hand in his, he whispered, "I'm here, Claire. I'm not leaving you."
But then, the room trembled again, the lights flickering as the hospital groaned under the strain of the growing apocalypse. Ethan looked down at Claire's sleeping face, his jaw tightening.
"I'll protect you," he said, his voice steady despite the fear gripping his heart. "No matter what happens. I'll keep you safe."
But deep down, as the world began to unravel around him, a single thought consumed him.
How do you protect someone from something this monstrous?
His heart thumped loudly as He stared at his phone, scrolling through more posts, while holding Claire...
As much as he wants to ascertain that she's okay, being a doctor he knew that information was power and the internet was only hope of gathering as much information as possible...
And each one of the info from the posts painted a grim picture of what was to come:
"Creatures from the void are real. A village in the south reported attacks. Entire populations wiped out."
"This isn't natural. Someone did this. A rift between dimensions? A failed experiment?"
"This is no time to be joking pal..."
Of course, there'll be some carefree freaks that'll be enjoying the thrill that this dangerous situation brings...
He clenched his jaw, his mind racing with questions. 'How much time do we have? What are those things? Can I keep Claire safe with all this madness?'
The door to Claire's room was just a few feet away, but for the first time, he hesitated. The weight of what was happening bore down on him, and the thought of failing her—failing everyone—threatened to crush him.
Taking a deep breath, Ethan straightened and pushed the door open. Inside, the monitors hummed softly, oblivious to the apocalypse outside. Claire lay peacefully, her delicate form bathed in the faint glow of the machines keeping her alive.
Ethan stepped inside and closed the door behind him, knowing this sanctuary, however advanced, might not be enough to protect them from what was coming.
For the second time in his life, Ethan Cross—brilliant doctor, unshakable optimist and a well known playboy who always get what he wants—felt powerless, as thing didn't go the way he wanted it too.
The hum of the machines in Claire's room, once a comforting backdrop to Ethan's work, now felt oppressive. It was as if the very air had shifted.
Ethan frowned as the Advanced Air Detectors on the wall emitted a shrill beep, flashing crimson across their sleek interface.
"Warning: Unknown Energy Signature Detected."
Ethan's eyes darted to the readout, and his stomach twisted into knots. Strange energies were rapidly accumulating in the room, the levels rising exponentially with every passing second. The detectors, calibrated to pick up even the faintest abnormalities, were screaming out warnings of an unprecedented surge.
He turned to Claire, her fragile body lying still on the bed. Her chest rose and fell softly, but something was wrong—terribly wrong. Her vitals on the Nano-Vital Monitors began to spike erratically, the graphs fluctuating wildly in colors Ethan had never seen before.
"What the hell…" he whispered, rushing to her side.
He stared at the holographic displays, the data pouring in like a torrent. The energy wasn't just present—it was reacting with Claire's body. Tendrils of glowing red mist, invisible to the naked eye but stark on the monitors, coiled around her like living things, sinking into her skin.
Ethan's medical instincts kicked in. His hands moved with the precision of years of experience, activating the Cellular Regeneration Capsule. It whirred to life, its mechanisms glowing as it attempted to stabilize her failing cells. He simultaneously keyed into the NeuroSync Console, searching for a way to isolate the energy.
"Come on… Come on!" he growled through clenched teeth, his mind racing.
The results only made his heart sink. The energy wasn't just interacting with Claire's body—it was overloading it. Her cells were absorbing the energy, but instead of revitalizing her, it was overwhelming every system, tearing her apart from the inside out.
"No… This can't be happening," Ethan muttered, his voice trembling.
He scanned the data again, desperately searching for a way to stop the surge. His system gave him theoretical solutions—deploying energy dampeners, creating an isolating barrier—but each one required at least thirty minutes to implement. Time he didn't have.
A sharp alarm jolted him as the Nano-Vital Monitors flashed an ominous red. Claire's lifespan—her precious few days—plummeted in an instant. Two minutes.