The world had changed.
In the weeks following the mysterious global broadcast, individuals across the globe began to emerge from the shadows, revealing themselves as "awakened." These were people who had been touched by the enigmatic light, granting them abilities that defied explanation. Governments scrambled to understand and manage this new reality, while the public watched with a mix of awe and apprehension.
In the United States, over ten individuals stepped into the limelight. Among them was a renowned musician, once the lead guitarist of a legendary rock band, who now claimed to possess the power to manipulate sound waves. His press conference was a spectacle, complete with a live demonstration that left reporters both impressed and slightly deafened.
Africa saw its own share of revelations. A celebrated female sprinter, known for breaking records on the track, announced her awakening with a vow to champion women's rights across the continent. Her newfound abilities, she claimed, would aid her in this mission, though she remained coy about the specifics.
Europe's response was a blend of celebrity and military might. Pop stars from South Korea and Japan revealed their powers in choreographed performances that blurred the line between concert and demonstration. Meanwhile, unknown individuals in Asia stepped forward, not just seeking protection but also fame, their abilities showcased in viral videos that captivated millions.
In the Philippines, the phenomenon took a unique turn. Three individuals, each from different walks of life, held a joint press conference that was broadcast nationwide. Their stories were as diverse as they were compelling.
Marvin Tayug was the first to speak. A professional basketball player with a career that had seen more bench time than playtime, Marvin's journey was one of perseverance. Drafted with high hopes, he had spent his early years warming benches and being traded between teams. Just a month prior, his latest team had declined to renew his contract, leaving him adrift. On the night of the global broadcast, Marvin was alone and intoxicated, swatting at a cockroach when the light enveloped him. The pain was excruciating, but when a voice asked him to choose a class, he declared himself a "Fighter." Now, standing before the press, Marvin exuded confidence. "I may not have made it big in basketball," he said, "but now, I have a new game to play."
Caitlyn Rodriguez, once a household name in Philippine cinema, had seen her star dim after a public breakup with her co-star and former boyfriend, Richard Garcia. The ensuing years were unkind, with Caitlyn taking on minor roles and battling personal demons. On the night of the awakening, under the influence of substances, she laughed uncontrollably as the light consumed her. When asked for her class, she mumbled "bitch," which the sentient misheard as "Witch." Now, with a mischievous glint in her eye, Caitlyn addressed the media. "I guess the universe has a sense of humor," she quipped. "From leading lady to spellcaster."
Titus Abad's path was rooted in politics. The son of an educator and politician, Titus had followed in his mother's footsteps, serving as a town councilor before ascending to the city council. His bid for vice-mayor had ended in defeat, a loss he attributed to electoral fraud. On the night of the awakening, Titus was at the beach with his boyfriend, lying in shallow waters. As the light struck, he instinctively reached out, killing a starfish and a hermit crab. When prompted for his class, he chose "Knight," drawing from his limited knowledge of fantasy tropes. Now, clad in armor-inspired attire, Titus stood tall. "I may not have won the election," he declared, "but I've been chosen for a higher purpose."
The press conference was a whirlwind of questions and demonstrations. Reporters probed into their abilities, motivations, and plans. Marvin showcased his enhanced strength by effortlessly lifting a heavy table. Caitlyn conjured a small flame in her palm, extinguishing it with a wink. Titus spoke passionately about using his powers to serve the people and advocate for the LGBTQ+ community.
As the event concluded, the trio stood together, a symbol of the new era dawning upon the world. Their stories, though unique, echoed a common theme: transformation. From obscurity to prominence, from despair to hope, they embodied the potential that the awakening had unleashed.
The world watched, captivated and curious, as these awakened individuals stepped into the spotlight. Their journeys were just beginning, and the path ahead was uncharted.
While the world basked in the glow of newfound heroes, their names trending in every corner of the internet and their powers hailed as the dawn of a new age, another kind of meeting was taking place in a secret stronghold buried far from any known map.
In a cold, dimly lit chamber, fifteen figures sat around an obsidian oval table. The walls were smooth, impossibly carved stone, and the air buzzed with a subtle vibration—like the hum of a long-forgotten machine awakening. If the world could see them now, it would freeze in shock. Some were globally recognized national leaders. Others were billionaire industrialists, global icons, and celebrity names that had dominated the headlines for decades—if not centuries. But none of them were what they seemed.
A storm of voices filled the air.
"This is not acceptable!" barked one silver-haired business tycoon, slamming a jeweled fist onto the table. "We will all be exposed! All our work for the past centuries—wasted!"
"I agree," muttered another, a prime minister whose carefully cultivated image of humility barely masked his burning panic. "Frankly, it's a miracle we've lasted this long without those bloody Guardians interfering again."
"Ah, of course," hissed a tall, pale-skinned man in a crimson suit, eyes unnaturally bright. "Blame the Reptilians. It's always their greed, isn't it?"
"Don't play innocent, bloodsucker!" the tycoon snapped. "Your kind seduced the humans with ridiculous stories—immortal lovers, sexy vampires in leather coats—and now they worship you like gods. If they only knew you're more mosquito than bat—"
"Enough!" boomed a voice from the far end of the table. A towering figure stood, cloaked in navy and bearing the insignia of a great power. His aura was enough to still the room.
"We meet to strategize," he growled. "Not to throw insults like petty mortals. We must find common ground."
A woman stood slowly, elegantly. Her face was flawless—ageless—and many around the world knew her under different names: a French queen here, a silent film star there, and a humanitarian icon in the 1990s. She had been all of them. And none.
"I have listened long enough," she said in a calm but commanding tone that cut through the room like a blade. "You were all warriors, hunters, and kings before the Dome trapped us. But look at you now—bloated, greedy, soft, obsessed with human pleasures. You've become parasites."
Gasps of offense filled the room, but no one dared interrupt her.
"You've survived ten thousand years," she continued, "and yet you wield no real power anymore. The Guardians left us alive not out of mercy, but as a reminder of their failure. Compared to them, we are ants."
She paused, scanning their faces—some proud, others bitter, all ancient.
"But it's not the Guardians you should fear. It's the Awakened," she said coldly. "They are human—your playthings for millennia. But now they rise. They will remember what was done to their kind, and they will not forgive. They will not stop. They will come for every one of you."
"You're exaggerating again, Serena," growled a broad-shouldered tycoon from Eastern Europe. "Don't pretend you're any better than the rest of us. You fed, you ruled, you seduced—same as us. Don't act holy now."
Serena smiled without warmth. "You think I'm preaching? I'm offering a warning."
"I'm not afraid of humans," spat another. "Awakened or not, this has been our world for thousands of years. We've taken it. We made it ours."
"Taken it?" scoffed another immortal, a woman twice the size of any man in the room, with thick braids tied back and shoulders that looked carved from marble. Her voice boomed like a war drum. "You squatted here, and we allowed it."
She turned slowly, eyes blazing. "But now the Guardians stir. The Dome weakens. You may soon have to answer for all you've done. So here is my final warning: when the skies break and the old laws return… leave. Go back to your dark and dying worlds. You are not welcome here anymore."
With that, she turned on her heel and stormed out, the chamber shaking as her heavy steps echoed through the stone corridor.
"So dramatic," muttered a billionaire in a velvet suit, adjusting his gold cufflinks.
"I like her," whispered the vampire. "Always have."
"But she's right," said a quiet voice near the end of the table. It belonged to a man whose fortune could buy continents. "We can't provoke the Guardians. Not yet. They have always abided by their strange laws—but if we force their hand, we won't survive it."
Another nodded. "If the Awakened are coming, we must prepare. Study them. Manipulate them, if needed. But no rash moves."
"I say we divide the territories," suggested the Reptilian, leaning back. "We've tolerated each other long enough. Let's make it official. Define our domains and enforce them with our own bloodlines."
The room fell into silence, then murmurs of reluctant agreement.
Serena sat again, silent now, but watching. The others had no idea that her message wasn't just a warning—it was a countdown.
The old world was ending.