Capítulo 8: Time Against the Ticking Clock
Dust billowed around Young-Jae, his knees sinking into the newly formed earth. Before him, Zephyr lay unconscious, a stark figure against the devastation. Panic clawed at Young-Jae's throat as a faint twitch registered in the man's finger. "Mr. Quinn! Mr. Quinn!! Wake up!"
Zephyr was just one among several victims who lay crumpled around them. The earthquake's violent end had sent them scrambling for safety, only to be overtaken by falling debris. Thankfully, the casualties were limited. Most had been knocked unconscious, escaping with minor injuries and bruises.
A sudden rasping interrupted Young-Jae's frantic calls. "That's enough. No need to shout near me." Zephyr said, hoarse and weak. He cracked open his eyes. The world was blurry at first before slowly sharpening into focus. With Young-Jae's help, he sat up, groaning slightly as his body protested the movement.
Zephyr ran his hands over his body, assessing his condition. His palms, he realized, were bandaged with crudely torn fabric. The familiar weight of his face mask was also gone.
Curiosity about the immediate situation held little sway over him. Instead, his gaze drifted upward, drawn by the massive holographic display shimmering in the sky.
======================
[Welcome to Apex World!]
Terraform has started.
Have fun y'all.
Time remaining: 24 hours and 57 minutes
======================
'This is when the air and environment should start becoming harmful, even if it's still tolerable,' he mused, his eyes then scanning the transformed horizon. 'The landscape should be 80% altered by now. The earthquake threat may be receding, but other challenges will soon face humanity.'
"What happened? How did I get here?!" Zephyr spat, struggling to regain his bearings. His last memory was being swallowed by a tidal wave of dust and rubble.
Young-Jae fidgeted, unsure where to begin. "After the earthquake and the harbor collapse, silence fell over this shifting land. We were all stunned, terrified. No one knew if anyone had survived the carnage. But after standing frozen for an hour, someone started digging, searching for any sign of life. That sparked a movement, and soon we were all helping."
He continued, "It took another hour of desperate digging, but we managed to pull out the survivors, you included, Mr. Quinn. And just as we were about to continue, the ground trembled again, though not as violently. Screams erupted that the port was changing, so we were forced to run, abandoning our search."
A spark ignited in Zephyr's eyes. Despite his ingrained self-reliance, a wave of gratitude washed over him. He had been saved, spared from another death in the brutal process of terraforming, a fate that could have left him without even a chance at rebirth since he knew nothing about his regression.
The present, uncertain and unpredictable as it was, suddenly held immense value. He would maximize every moment and carve his own path without relying on the whims of fate. Luck, he acknowledged, played its role, but it was hard work that truly mattered. Even if the outcomes weren't what he envisioned, the dedication, sweat, and grit poured into the effort would bring its own satisfaction, a solace in the face of an unknown future.
'Time is of the essence,' Zephyr thought, forcing himself to his feet despite the dizziness threatening to pull him back down. Danger lurked around every corner, fueling his determination to reach the Fortress of the Divine Light and boost his chances of survival. 'The vaccine and serum are my priority.'
He turned to Young-Jae, gratitude flickering in his eyes. "Thank you for tending to my wounds." He gestured towards his bandaged palms, raw and stinging.
"Actually, Mr. Quinn," Young-Jae interjected, quickly clearing up the misunderstanding by pointing to his right. "They're the ones who provided further assistance after your rescue."
Zephyr shifted his gaze and saw four figures standing to his left.
"Ah, yes. That's what my little sister did," said the eldest of the group, a man with weathered features and kind eyes.
"My thanks," Zephyr replied, his words clipped but genuine.
"No, no, sir," the man said quickly, shaking his head. "The thanks are owed to you. If you hadn't risked your life to help those in the half-destroyed building earlier, we might not be here now."
"Ah, that's right. My name is Kim Jae-Sik. And these three..." The man's voice softened, a tremor of emotion betraying the steely resolve in his stance, "These are my brother and sisters. Jae-Ya is the one who treated your wounds, and this is Jae-mi, and this is the youngest, Jae-Suk." He gestured to each in turn. Their faces, a tapestry of fear and defiance, were framed by the dense wilderness pressing in on all sides.
Zephyr met Jae-Ya's gaze, a throbbing pain pulsing in his palm. He offered a silent nod, a gesture that held more than mere acknowledgment. Her bandages, though crude, kept his wound secure, a testament to her calm courage in the face of chaos.
Across the clearing, a group stirred, their eyes drawn toward the looming silhouette on the horizon. Like it or not, survival now hinged on the whispers of children and teenagers - the rumored guardians of this, humanity's last sanctuary. The world's doom felt undeniable. Majestic cityscapes had been reduced to dust, replaced by alien landscapes sculpted by the terraforming event. Modernity was a relic buried under layers of a new, unforgiving earth.
The frantic buzz around him ignited a cold fire in Zephyr's eyes. "My bag," he barked, his voice a rasp of controlled urgency. Young-Jae, still dazed by the pandemonium, fumbled for a moment before thrusting a worn duffel bag into his hands.
Zephyr, fueled by the raw instinct honed on countless survival courses, wasted no time. He snatched a water bottle and shoved a handful of chocolate bars into his mouth, a desperate pre-emptive strike against the unknown ordeal ahead. Then, with practiced efficiency, he donned two face masks, doubling the flimsy protection they offered. Still not satisfied, he strapped two kitchen knives to each hand, their blades glinting with a chilling promise of defense. Finally, he hefted the duffel bag onto his shoulder, its weight a familiar ballast in this sea of uncertainty.
He also gave face masks and kitchen knives to the four brothers, leaving them confused. Meanwhile, Young-Jae imitated Zephyr's self-preparation actions like a member of a cult. So obedient without being ordered.
Zephyr then opened his mouth with urgency as he scanned the bewildered faces before him. "If you need food or water, now's the time. From here on, stuffing your stomach without the vaccine is likely…, detrimental."
Jae-Sik stammered, overwhelmed by the sudden shift in events, unsure how to react. Young-Jae's earlier briefing hadn't prepared him for the harsh reality unfolding before him. His younger siblings, clutching the unfamiliar weight of kitchen knives thrust upon them, trembled with a raw, primal fear.
Zephyr, his gaze hard but steady, continued. "The air, the environment…it's changing. Normal routines won't work anymore. The shelter…, that's where we need to be. It's our only chance at life in this new world."
He paused, his jaw clenching. "And our pace needs to pick up. No need to run, but we can't afford to dawdle. Stamina's our lifeline." His voice, a grim whisper, held back the horrors he knew awaited them on the journey onward other than the change of climate and atmosphere.
The air crackled with tension, thick with unspoken questions and raw fear. Jae-Sik, his family's protector, met Zephyr's gaze with a flicker of defiance. He might not understand everything, but he knew one thing: they had no choice. They had to trust this stranger, this man who held their survival – their very future – in his calloused hands.
REFLEXIONES DE LOS CREADORES 
Phantomfiend
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