INT. ARVEN'S ROOM – MORNING
The alarm rings. Arven stares at the ceiling, restless. Sweat clings to his brow.
Narration: The dreams continue, though no trumpet has sounded yet. The world jokes online, calls it mass hysteria—but Arven knows the urgency in his chest is real.
He dresses quickly, checking his phone. Notifications flash: messages from friends, news alerts, videos of people fainting in the streets.
Arven (quiet, to himself): It's not just me... it's everywhere.
EXT. STREETS – MORNING
Vendors set up stalls. Students rush by in uniforms. The usual noise is there, but underneath it, tension hums—in hushed whispers, in glances, in hurried steps.
Man (mutters, passing Arven): Same dream... every night... God help us.
Woman (to friend, uneasy): Are you... sure this is normal?
Friend (forcing a laugh): It's just stories, right?
Narration: Stories or warnings? Arven cannot tell.
INT. SCHOOL – MORNING
Arven walks into class. Phones light up. Students huddle, sharing screenshots of global reports. Teachers whisper behind closed doors.
Suzan (to Ray, whispering): Have you seen it? News is going nuts... nightmares everywhere.
Ray: Everyone's saying it's a sign. Some freak out, some laugh... no one knows.
Arven sits quietly, thinking.
Narration: Fear is infectious, spreading faster than any virus. He watches his classmates. Faces pale, eyes wide, hands trembling. And still... the dreams have not fully come for him yet.
EXT. CAMPUS GROUNDS – LUNCHTIME
Arven sits beneath a tree with May. She watches him closely.
May (softly): You've been quiet. Tell me what's on your mind.
Arven (hesitant): The dreams... they're getting worse. And I can feel... something's coming. Not everyone's ready for it.
May (concerned): Something? What do you mean?
Arven: I don't know. But it's not just dreams. Look around... people are changing. Fear is... growing.
Narration: He sees it in her eyes—the worry, the unspoken question. She wants answers. He has none.
EXT. SCHOOL HALLWAY – AFTERNOON
Arven walks the corridor, noticing subtle signs:
Students praying quietly in corners.
Teachers speaking softly, almost afraid.
Posters for church events suddenly pinned everywhere.
He pauses at a bulletin board. A small flyer: "Repentance Gathering Tonight—All Are Welcome". He reads it twice.
Arven (thinking): They know... or they feel it too.
A classmate bumps into him.
Classmate (nervous laugh): Did you... sleep okay last night?
Arven (forcing a smile): As well as anyone can... I guess.
Narration: No one sleeps well anymore. Even ordinary nights are haunted by shadows of what's coming.
EXT. CITY STREETS – EVENING
Arven walks home, alert. The streets seem quieter. Lights flicker, and distant sirens echo. People glance at the sky nervously, murmuring among themselves.
Woman (to neighbor): Did you hear it? A low... hum?
Neighbor (uneasy): Probably just the wind... right?
Narration: It isn't the wind. Arven feels it too—a vibration underfoot, a pulse in the air. He quickens his pace.
He passes a man staring at a cracked cellphone screen, trembling.
Man (muttering): It's coming... it's really coming...
Arven glances at the sky. Clouds shift unnaturally, moving too fast, almost as if alive.
Arven (whispering to himself): I should warn someone... but who would believe me?
INT. ARVEN'S ROOM – NIGHT
Arven sits at his desk, scrolling through news reports. Panic spreads globally—tweets, livestreams, videos of fainting crowds, people seeing shadowed figures.
Narration: The world watches, whispers, jokes... but no one is ready. The first trumpet is coming, and Arven knows it.
He types a quick message to John.
Arven (messaging John): Something's going to happen. Be ready.
John replies instantly:
John: Ready for what?
Arven (thinking): For the world to break.
He stares at the ceiling, tense, every nerve alert.
Narration: The calm before the storm is always the most deafening. Arven feels it in his chest, a heartbeat that is not his own.
The wind rattles the windowpane. He shivers, knowing the dream... the real nightmare... is about to arrive.
To be continued...