The air inside the university quadrangle had become a physical weight, heavy with the metallic tang of blood and the ozone-sharp scent of electricity. I ran past the sprawled bodies of students who had fainted from the initial shockwave, my shoes slamming against the pavement with a rhythm that felt detached from my own heartbeat. The bent metal signpost in my grip was heavy, awkward, and slippery with sweat, but I refused to let it go. It was the only thing standing between me and the creatures that were currently tearing the world apart. The roar I had heard earlier—the one that signaled a second beast—echoed off the concrete walls of the administration building, sounding more like grinding machinery than any animal I had ever known.
"Clear the area! Move! Everyone to the gymnasium!" a security guard screamed, his voice cracking with a panic that betrayed his authority. He was waving frantically near the covered walk, his baton drawn but shaking visibly in his hand. "Do not stop! Do not look back!"
A cluster of students sprinted past me, their faces pale masks of terror. One of them, a girl with her bag hanging open and spilling notebooks onto the grass, tripped over a protruding root. She scrambled to her feet, sobbing, not even bothering to retrieve her things. I didn't stop to help her. I couldn't. The instinct that had buried itself in my chest—the cold, predatory hum of the orb I had absorbed—was screaming at me to keep moving, to find high ground, to hunt or be hunted. It was a sensation entirely foreign to my own mind, overlaying my thoughts like a second, darker transparency.
"You there! Student!" the guard yelled, spotting me as I veered away from the gymnasium and toward the main gate. "Wrong way! The evacuation point is the gym! The streets are not safe!"
I didn't slow down. "My friend is out there," I shouted back, my voice sounding rough and unfamiliar to my own ears. "I'm not staying trapped in here!"
"Get back here! That's an order!"
I ignored him, vaulting over a low hedge and hitting the asphalt of the campus driveway. The sensation in my legs was exhilarating and terrifying all at once. I wasn't an athlete; I was a college student who spent too much time in the library and not enough time at the gym. Yet, as I pushed off the ground, I felt a surge of explosive power in my calves and thighs—a residue of the creature I had killed. The world seemed to move just a fraction slower than usual, allowing me to process the chaotic scene with unnatural clarity. I could see the individual shards of glass on the road, the specific sway of the trees as the shockwaves continued to ripple from the sky, and the terrified wideness of the eyes of the people I passed.
Is this the power? I thought, gripping the signpost tighter. Is this what that thing felt before I killed it?
I reached the main gate of the campus, expecting to find the usual gridlock of tricycles and cars. What I found instead was a graveyard of vehicles. The traffic along Katipunan Avenue had completely seized. Cars were abandoned, doors left wide open, engines idling or dead. Drivers and passengers were flooding the streets on foot, a stampede of humanity pushing away from the intersection where the rift in the sky was most prominent. The noise was deafening—a cacophony of car alarms, screaming sirens, and the terrified wails of thousands of people realizing that their reality had shattered.
"Move! Get out of the way!" a man in a business suit shoved past me, his eyes wild. He was clutching a briefcase to his chest as if it could protect him from the monstrosities descending from the clouds.
I stumbled but regained my balance instantly, the unnatural reflexes correcting my posture before I could fall. I looked North, toward Cubao, toward where Mark had been. The sky there was a bruising shade of violet and black. The rift wasn't just a line anymore; it was a complex geometric fracture, leaking smoke and light. And beneath it, hovering over the distinct skyline of the business district, were shapes. Dozens of them. They looked like ashes floating on an updraft, but I knew better. They were swarms.
"Mark," I whispered, the name tasting like ash in my mouth.
I began to weave through the abandoned cars, treating the hood of a stalled sedan as a stepping stone to get a better view. The elevation gave me a vantage point, but it also made me a target. From atop the car, I saw the chaos unfolding near the flyover. A group of three creatures—similar to the skeletal, dog-like beast I had killed, but larger, with obsidian spines protruding from their backs—were tearing into a bus. The passengers inside were screaming, banging against the glass, but the creatures were relentless. They moved with a jerky, stop-motion horror, tearing metal like wet cardboard.
"Oh god, help us! Someone shoot them!" a woman screamed from the sidewalk, clutching a child to her chest.
A police patrol car was parked askew near the bus, its lights flashing. Two officers were crouched behind the doors, firing their service pistols. Pop. Pop. Pop. The gunshots sounded pathetic against the roar of the beasts. I saw the bullets spark against the creatures' hides, doing little more than annoying them. These things weren't just animals; their skin was hardened, perhaps reinforced by the same strange energy that had entered me.
One of the creatures turned its attention away from the bus and toward the police officers. It let out a chittering hiss, its jaw unhinging to reveal rows of needle-like teeth. In a blur of motion, it leaped. It covered the twenty feet between the bus and the patrol car in a single heartbeat.
"Look out!" one officer yelled, but he was too slow.
The creature slammed into the car door, crushing the metal inward and pinning the officer against the frame. He shrieked in agony as the beast raked its claws across the shattered window. The second officer panicked, firing blindly, but the bullets went wide, shattering the windshield of a nearby SUV.
I was paralyzed for a second. The rational part of Kil Salvatierra told me to run the other way. I was one guy with a piece of scrap metal. Those were police officers with guns, and they were losing. But the other part of me—the part that had absorbed the glowing vestige—felt a spike of aggression. It wasn't courage; it was hunger. It was the territorial instinct of a predator recognizing a challenge. My heart hammered against my ribs, not in fear, but in anticipation.
I can hurt them, I realized. I hurt the first one. I can hurt these.
I didn't make a conscious decision to be a hero. My body simply moved. I jumped from the sedan to the roof of a van, then to the hood of the police car. The metal groaned under my landing. The creature attacking the officer snapped its head up, its yellow eyes locking onto me. It recognized me—or rather, it recognized the energy signature inside me. It hissed, abandoning the trapped policeman to lunge at the new threat.
"Hey, ugly!" I shouted, gripping the signpost with both hands like a baseball bat.
The creature sprang. It was fast, faster than the one in the quad, but I was ready this time. I didn't try to block; I knew the force would shatter my arms. instead, I dropped my center of gravity and twisted, letting the creature sail over my head. As it passed, I swung the signpost with everything I had, aiming not for the head, but for the extended back leg.
CRACK.
The impact vibrated up my arms, rattling my teeth, but the sound of bone snapping was unmistakable. The creature tumbled in the air, crashing onto the asphalt and rolling. It shrieked—a high-pitched, vibrating sound that made my vision blur for a second.
"Kid! Get out of here!" the surviving policeman yelled, his hands shaking as he tried to reload his weapon. "What the hell are you doing?"
"Saving your life!" I snapped back, my eyes fixed on the creature as it scrambled to stand on three legs. "Aim for the eyes! The bullets bounce off the body!"
The creature didn't wait for us to strategize. Despite the broken leg, it launched itself at me again, favoring its good side. It was enraged now. I sidestepped, but I wasn't fast enough to avoid the backhand swipe of its claw. The blow caught me in the ribs, sending me skidding backward across the hood of the car. Pain exploded in my side, hot and sharp, stealing the breath from my lungs.
I gasped, tasting copper. It's strong. Too strong.
The creature loomed over me, raising a claw to finish the job. I stared up at it, and for a moment, time seemed to suspend again. I could see the pulse of light beneath its translucent skin, a glowing core in the center of its chest. It was just like the orb I had absorbed.
The core, I thought. That's the source.
I didn't try to get up. Instead, I thrust the jagged end of the broken signpost upward with a desperate, guttural roar. I put every ounce of the strange strength flowing through my veins into the thrust. The metal pole caught the creature in the center of its chest, piercing the translucent skin. It sank in with a sickening squelch.
The creature stiffened. It let out a gurgling sound, its claws hovering inches from my face. Then, the glow in its eyes flickered and died. It collapsed on top of me, heavy and reeking of sulfur and rot.
I shoved the carcass off me, groaning as my bruised ribs protested. I rolled onto the pavement, gasping for air.
"Jesus Christ," the policeman whispered, staring at me. He had finally managed to reload, but his gun hung uselessly at his side. "What… who are you?"
I didn't answer. I couldn't. Because as the creature died, another orb of light drifted out of its chest. This one was larger than the first two, pulsating with a deeper, more violent shade of orange. It hovered for a second before darting toward me.
"No, not now," I gritted out, trying to crawl away.
But the orb was faster. It slammed into my chest, sinking through my skin and merging with my bloodstream.
The reaction was immediate. A wave of heat scorched through my veins, far more intense than before. My vision turned red. I felt my muscles contracting, knitting together, growing denser. The pain in my ribs dulled to a throb, then vanished entirely. But with the healing came a mental backlash—a sudden, overwhelming urge to consume.
Hunger. Flesh. Power.
I clutched my head, digging my fingers into my scalp. "Get out of my head!" I yelled at the voice that wasn't mine.
"Kid? You okay?" The officer took a cautious step toward me.
I looked up at him. For a split second, he didn't look like a person to me. He looked like prey. A collection of vital points and warm blood.
I squeezed my eyes shut and bit my tongue hard enough to draw blood. The sharp pain snapped me back to reality. I am Kil Salvatierra, I recited internally. I am human. I am not a monster.
I forced myself to stand, using the car for support. The signpost was still embedded in the dead creature. I yanked it free with a wet slide. The metal was bent almost ninety degrees now, useless as a blunt weapon but perhaps functional as a hook or a pick.
"Listen to me," I said to the officer, my voice low and trembling. "There are two more of them by the bus. They're distracted, but once they finish with the passengers, they'll come here. You need to take your partner and run. Now."
The officer looked at his trapped partner, then back at me. "I can't leave them. We called for backup. The Special Action Force is coming."
"Look around you!" I gestured to the skyline, where helicopters were being swatted out of the sky by winged horrors. "Backup isn't coming. Not in time to save you."
As if to punctuate my point, a massive explosion rocked the ground from the direction of Cubao. A plume of black smoke rose into the air, mushrooming outward. The shockwave rattled the windows of the abandoned cars around us.
The officer paled. He looked at his partner, who was groaning in the wreckage of the door, alive but pinned.
"Help me get him out," the officer pleaded, his demeanor shifting from authority to desperation. "Please. You're… you're strong. I saw what you did. Just help me pry the door."
I looked at the bus. The screams had stopped. That was bad. It meant the other two creatures were done eating. I looked at the officer, then at the smoking horizon where Mark was. Every second I wasted here was a second Mark might be dying.
Go, the instinct whispered. Survival of the fittest. Leave the weak.
Shut up, I thought viciously.
"Grab his shoulders," I ordered, dropping the signpost and stepping up to the crushed door.
The officer nodded frantically, reaching into the car to grab his partner's vest. I jammed my fingers into the gap between the door frame and the car body. The metal was sharp, cutting into my skin, but I didn't care. I channeled that feeling—the heat, the buzzing energy—into my arms.
"On three," I grunted. "One. Two. Three!"
I pulled. A normal human couldn't have budged it. The hydraulic jaws of life were needed for this kind of wreckage. But as I strained, the veins in my arms bulging, the metal groaned. It shrieked in protest, then gave way. I ripped the door back on its hinges, the metal tearing with a screech that set my teeth on edge.
The officer dragged his partner out onto the asphalt. The injured man's leg was a mess of blood and torn fabric, but he was conscious.
"Thank you," the officer breathed, looking at me with a mixture of gratitude and terrified awe. "Thank you."
"Don't thank me. Just run," I said, picking up my bent signpost. "Head toward Marikina. Away from the rift."
"What about you?" he asked. "Where are you going?"
I turned back toward the north, toward the heart of the disaster. The sky was getting darker, the rift pulsating like a rhythmic heartbeat that I could feel in the soles of my feet.
"I have to go to Cubao," I said.
"You're insane," the officer said, hoisting his partner up. "That's ground zero."
"I know."
I didn't wait for another response. I turned and started running again, my pace faster than before. The second orb had given me something new—endurance. My lungs felt larger, my legs lighter. I moved past the bus where the other two creatures were feasting. I stayed low, using the line of stopped vehicles as cover. They didn't see me. Or maybe they were just too gorged to care.
As I left the immediate vicinity of the university, the landscape changed. The residential areas of Loyola Heights were in panic. Families were packing cars that wouldn't move, looting convenience stores for water, or simply huddled in their driveways, staring at the sky.
My phone vibrated in my pocket. I pulled it out while running. The screen was cracked, but it still worked. No signal. The networks were down, likely overloaded or destroyed.
"Damn it, Mark," I hissed. "You better be hiding."
I reached the intersection that led toward the LRT-2 line. The overhead train tracks stretched out above me, a concrete snake leading directly into the chaos. The train that I had gotten off just thirty minutes ago was stopped on the tracks between stations, smoke pouring from one of its carriages.
I stopped for a brief second to catch my breath and assess the route. The road below was a choke point. Too many people, too many potential targets for the monsters. If I wanted to move fast, I needed a clear path.
I looked up at the concrete pillars supporting the train tracks. They were massive, vertical slabs of cement.
Can I?
The idea was crazy. But the energy inside me felt restless, eager to be tested.
I approached one of the maintenance ladders attached to the side of the pillar. It was locked behind a metal cage, about ten feet off the ground.
I didn't need the ladder. I crouched and leaped.
I soared upward, my hand catching the metal rung of the ladder above the cage. I pulled myself up with ease that felt frightening. I scrambled up the ladder, reaching the maintenance walkway beside the tracks.
The view from up here was apocalyptic.
The entire span of Aurora Boulevard was a parking lot of abandoned vehicles. Fires burned in random spots—a gas station, a commercial building, a cluster of cars. And amidst the smoke, I could see them. Not just dogs. There were other things now. Large, hulking shapes smashing through storefronts. winged creatures diving into the crowds.
But what chilled me the most wasn't the monsters.
It was the people.
On a rooftop of a nearby condominium, I saw a man standing on the ledge. He wasn't running. He was glowing. A faint, blue light emanated from his hands. He was throwing bolts of… something… at a flock of winged beasts circling him.
I'm not the only one, I realized. Others are awakening too.
The man on the roof missed a shot, and one of the winged creatures dived. It snatched him off the ledge, carrying him screaming into the smoke-filled sky.
I looked away, grimacing. Having power didn't mean you were invincible. It just meant you were a slightly harder meal to digest.
I turned my eyes back to the tracks leading to Cubao. It was a straight shot. No cars, no crowds. Just open concrete and rails.
I started running along the maintenance path, the wind whipping against my face. The hum of the rift grew louder with every step, a vibration that rattled my teeth. My shadow stretched long and thin in the dying sunlight, distorted by the flickering glow from above.
I was Kil Salvatierra. I was a student. I was a nobody.
But as I ran toward the end of the world, feeling the stolen strength of monsters surging through my blood, I knew that version of me was already dead. The Riftwalker had been born in the quadrangle, and he was hungry.
I checked my grip on the bent signpost.
Hang on, Mark. I'm coming.
The tracks ahead were broken in places, twisted by the seismic force of the rift's opening. I navigated the gaps, leaping over fissures that dropped thirty feet down to the street.
Just as I passed the Anonas station, a sound stopped me cold. It wasn't a roar. It was a voice.
"Help! Please, up here!"
I skidded to a halt. The voice was coming from inside the stalled train car on the tracks. The doors were pried partially open, jammed. Hands were waving through the gap.
"We're trapped! The doors won't open!"
I hesitated. Cubao was still kilometers away. Every stop was a risk. But the plea was desperate, human.
I cursed under my breath and ran toward the train car. Inside, pressed against the glass, were dozens of faces. Men, women, students in uniforms. The air conditioning was off, and in the tropical heat, that metal tube was becoming an oven.
I grabbed the edges of the jammed doors.
"Stand back!" I yelled.
I engaged the Vestige—the strength of the dog-beast. My muscles burned. The metal doors resisted, the mechanism bent and locked. I gritted my teeth, pulling until I felt something pop in my shoulder.
Come on!
With a shriek of tearing metal, the doors slid apart.
Fresh air rushed into the car. People tumbled out onto the narrow walkway, gasping, crying.
"Thank you! Oh my god, thank you!" a middle-aged woman grabbed my arm, sobbing.
"Follow the tracks back to Katipunan," I instructed loudly, pulling my arm away gently. "Do not go down to the street unless you have to. Go to the station platform and wait for the military."
"Where are you going?" a man asked, wiping soot from his face. "That way is suicide."
I looked down the tracks toward the towering, swirling vortex over Cubao.
"I have an appointment," I said dryly.
I turned and resumed my run, leaving the bewildered survivors behind. The sun finally dipped below the horizon, plunging the city into a twilight illuminated only by fires and the unearthly glow of the rift.
Night had fallen. And the hunt was just beginning.