Three days had passed since Teddy awoke from his coma.
His body was slowly healing, but his mind still wrestled to comprehend the new world now unfurling before him.
That evening, under the muted light of the sun filtering through the small window of their refuge, Teddy finally spoke.
"Vanessa," he whispered, "what really happened after I blacked out? This world... why does it feel so broken?"
Vanessa, who was pouring water into a glass, paused. Her eyes dimmed with sorrow.
She brought the glass to the bedside table and sat on the battered old chair that had become a silent witness to countless sleepless nights.
"Everything changed, Teddy," she said softly. "The moment you fell... the world began to fall with you."
Teddy frowned, confused.
"Fall apart?" he echoed.
In the heavy silence of the infirmary, only the ticking of a wall clock and the faint sigh of wind through the vents filled the space.
Vanessa reached for Teddy's hand, gripping it tightly — as if afraid he might vanish again.
"It started a year ago," she whispered, voice trembling. "That day... the sky tore open."
Teddy's gaze locked onto her, drinking in every word as if they were his only anchor to reality.
Vanessa's voice quivered, her memories bleeding through despite her best efforts to contain them.
"The sky over Pontianak... changed. Black clouds twisted into a churning maelstrom. Then—" she paused, swallowing hard, tears welling in her eyes, "there was a sound... like thousands of panes of glass shattering at once, echoing across the heavens."
Teddy could almost hear it — the monstrous roar of a world breaking apart.
"And then," Vanessa continued, her voice a fragile thread, "a gaping wound appeared. A portal, massive and black as oblivion.
From it... they came. The dead. Their rotting bodies, their empty, soulless eyes... they devoured everything alive."
Teddy clenched his fists atop the blanket.
"In mere hours, Pontianak became hell on earth. People ran. Screamed. Some didn't even have time to flee.
Our city, our home... it fell apart before our eyes."
Vanessa fell silent, gathering herself before continuing in a voice that was barely a whisper.
"You were unconscious through it all.
By some miracle, our house was just far enough from the first impact zone.
I... my father, mother, and your little sister — we managed to escape before everything collapsed."
She exhaled shakily, fighting back the flood of emotions.
"The government did what they could — they sealed off this small safe zone. They built walls from scraps — steel, concrete, debris — whatever they could find.
Now, soldiers, police, and even civilians who can still fight stand guard day and night, holding the line."
Teddy imagined it: a dying civilization, clawing to survive with walls of broken stone and iron, teeth bared against the end of the world.
He shut his eyes, the weight of it all pressing against his chest.
He hadn't even been there to help, to fight for the family that had saved him time and time again.
Vanessa squeezed his hand tighter.
"You don't have to carry that guilt, Teddy," she murmured. "What matters is that you're here. We're still standing."
Teddy's voice was a breath, a promise carved into the broken air.
"I swear... I'll never leave you alone again."
Vanessa smiled through her tears, pressing his hand against her cheek.
"I know," she whispered. "I believe in you, Teddy."
Together, they sat in silence, their hands locked in defiance of a shattered world.
Beyond the battered walls, guards stood vigilant; the clink of armor and the heavy tread of boots echoed faintly.
Outside those walls, the world had ended — but inside, a fragile ember of hope still burned.