The antiseptic smell of the hospital was always so pungent.
Yeh Yao sat on a bench outside the ward, staring blankly at the coffee cup in his hands. The liquid had long gone cold, much like his scattered thoughts. Three days had passed since the blood moon night, but every time he closed his eyes, the memories surfaced with terrifying clarity—the twisted faces of the monsters, Alicia's screams as she was dragged away, and the radiant holy sword that had emerged from within him.
"You should go home and rest," a passing nurse said softly. "You've been here for three days straight."
Yeh Yao shook his head, forcing a tired smile. "I'm fine. Thanks for your concern."
The nurse sighed but didn't press further, merely patting his shoulder before walking away. Yeh Yao knew he must look terrible—unshaven, bloodshot eyes, clothes wrinkled from days of wear. But he didn't care. As long as Alicia remained in that hospital bed, he wouldn't leave.
That night, after they had called the police, officers and paramedics had arrived quickly. Alicia was rushed to the hospital, while Yeh Yao was taken in for questioning. He told them everything—the shapeshifting monsters, the mysterious glowing sword—but no one believed him. In the end, the incident was officially labeled as "violent assault by unidentified perpetrators," and Yeh Yao's account was dismissed as "hallucinations induced by trauma."
He hadn't argued. Without evidence, no one would believe such an outlandish story. Besides, the two monsters had disintegrated into ash, leaving no trace behind. The only person who could corroborate his story was Alicia.
The ward door creaked open, and Yeh Yao immediately stood up. Alicia's father, Mr. Lim, stepped out, his exhaustion mirroring Yeh Yao's.
"She's awake. She wants to see you," Mr. Lim said, his voice hesitant. "But… she keeps saying strange things. About monsters. About a glowing sword. The doctors think it might be post-traumatic stress disorder. They advised us not to contradict her, just to… play along."
Yeh Yao nodded, bitterness welling in his chest. He knew Alicia wasn't delusional—every word she said was true. But now, the two of them were the only ones who knew the truth, and it was too unbelievable for anyone else to accept.
"I'll be careful," Yeh Yao assured Mr. Lim before stepping into the room.
The ward was softly lit, curtains half-drawn, sunlight filtering through the gaps and spilling onto the bed. Alicia lay propped up against the pillows, her face pale but her eyes alert. When she saw Yeh Yao, they brightened instantly.
"You're finally here," she said, her voice weak but tinged with relief.
Yeh Yao sat beside her and gently took her hand. "I was outside the whole time. Didn't want to disturb your rest."
Alicia rolled her eyes. "Don't lie. The nurses told me you've barely left the hospital in three days." Then her expression turned serious. "They don't believe us, do they? About what happened that night."
Yeh Yao hesitated before nodding. "They think we were traumatized. That we imagined it."
"But it wasn't an illusion," Alicia insisted. "Those… things were real. And the sword—I saw it clearly."
"I know," Yeh Yao murmured, glancing at his hand as if he could still see the sword's imprint. "I can still feel it inside me. Like it's… dormant."
Alicia studied him curiously. "Can you summon it? Like you did that night?"
Yeh Yao shook his head. "I've tried. It doesn't respond. I don't know how it appeared or how to control it."
They fell into silence, both lost in their memories of that night. Finally, Alicia spoke again.
"Have you seen the news?" she asked, her voice tense.
Yeh Yao nodded grimly. Over the past three days, similar attacks had been reported worldwide—Tokyo, New York, Moscow, Sydney. Countless people claimed to have seen "monsters" or "shapeshifting humans." Most official statements dismissed these as mass hysteria or terrorist attacks, but photos and videos circulating online showed creatures eerily similar to the ones they had encountered.
"This isn't a coincidence," Yeh Yao said. "The blood moon, the simultaneous attacks… it's all connected."
"And you have a weapon that can fight them," Alicia added, her eyes alight with a mix of excitement and worry. "What do you think it means?"
Yeh Yao took a deep breath, weighing his answer carefully. He knew that voicing it aloud meant accepting a responsibility that could change their lives forever.
"I don't know what it means," he admitted. "But I know I can't just stand by. If I really have the power to fight these things, then I have to use it to protect people."
Alicia smiled, as if she'd expected nothing less. "I knew you'd say that. That's why I lo—" She cut herself off, cheeks flushing. "—why we're such good friends."
Yeh Yao's heart skipped, but he didn't press her on the unfinished sentence. Now wasn't the time—not when they faced something far bigger than their feelings.
"We need more information," he said, steering the conversation away. "About the monsters. About the sword. About why this is happening now."
"I've already started looking," Alicia said, reaching for a tablet on her bedside table. "The nurses brought this for me. I've been compiling reports and eyewitness accounts."
Yeh Yao couldn't help but smile. This was the Alicia he knew—relentlessly proactive, never one to back down.
"Look at this," she said, pulling up an article about ancient myths of "hellgates." "Multiple cultures have similar legends—portals connecting worlds, monsters pouring through. And these stories are often tied to celestial events, like eclipses."
"Like the blood moon," Yeh Yao mused.
"Exactly. And this," she switched to another page showing an ancient mural—a warrior wielding a glowing weapon against monstrous foes. "This was found in a newly discovered Egyptian tomb, estimated to be five thousand years old. Doesn't that weapon look just like your sword?"
Yeh Yao studied the mural. The resemblance was uncanny—the shape, even the runes along the blade.
"That's not a coincidence," he murmured, a chill running down his spine. "Which means this has happened before."
"Maybe more than once," Alicia added, her eyes gleaming with the thrill of discovery. "We need to find more clues like this. Learn how people in the past dealt with it."
Just then, Yeh Yao's phone rang. An unknown number. After a moment's hesitation, he answered.
"Yeh Yao?" A calm male voice spoke in fluent Mandarin.
"Yes. Who is this?"
"My name is Marcus Chen. I'd like to talk to you about what happened three nights ago—about the monsters. And about the holy sword that appeared in your hand."
Yeh Yao stiffened, stunned into silence. This stranger not only knew about that night but also the sword.
"How… how do you know about that?" he finally managed, his voice tight with tension.
A quiet chuckle came through the line. "Because you're not the first chosen one, Yeh Yao. Nor will you be the last. We need to talk—in person. This concerns you, Alicia, and the safety of the entire world."
Yeh Yao met Alicia's questioning gaze and switched the call to speakerphone.
"Where do we meet?" he asked.
"Tomorrow noon. The old banyan tree in Central Park. I'll come alone. You may bring Alicia, if she's recovered." Marcus paused. "Remember, Yeh Yao—the power you wield is both a gift and a responsibility. The world is facing an unprecedented crisis, and you may be one of our greatest hopes."
The call ended, leaving Yeh Yao and Alicia staring at each other.
"Do you think we can trust him?" Alicia asked.
Yeh Yao considered it, then nodded. "He knows about the sword. That's not a coincidence. And if he really has answers, this might be our only chance to learn the truth."
"Well then," Alicia grinned, "guess I'll have to convince the doctors to discharge me tomorrow."
Yeh Yao laughed. "Are you sure you're well enough?"
"For the truth? For helping you? I'd do anything," she said firmly, her eyes blazing with determination. "We've been together since kindergarten. Whatever comes next, I'm not letting you face it alone."
Warmth spread through Yeh Yao's chest. Whatever awaited them, at least they'd face it together. That thought alone gave him courage.
"Then tomorrow, we meet Marcus Chen," he said, squeezing her hand.
Outside, the sun still shone, the city still bustled—life went on as usual. But Yeh Yao knew the world had changed. And their lives would never be the same.
Meanwhile, on the other side of the city, a well-dressed middle-aged man stood before a floor-to-ceiling window, gazing at the distant hospital. Marcus Chen lowered his phone, a complicated expression crossing his face.
"The first wielder has awakened," he said to his assistant. "Prepare to receive them. Time is running short—hellgates are opening everywhere. We need to find all the holy weapon bearers as soon as possible."
The assistant nodded and left. Marcus turned back to the window, his eyes filled with both hope and dread.
"Let's hope this time, we can prevent the catastrophe," he murmured. "Let's hope this time, history doesn't repeat itself."