INT. ARVEN'S ROOM – MORNING
The alarm rings. Arven turns it off, staring blankly at the ceiling. His body feels heavy, his mind restless.
Narration: A week has passed since the dreams began. People laugh about them online, but beneath the humor lies unease. Something doesn't feel right.
He gets up, dresses quietly, and leaves the house.
EXT. STREETS – MORNING
Vendors open stalls, children run in uniforms, jeepneys crowd the road. Yet the usual noise feels thinner—like the city itself is holding back.
Narration: The world moves as always. But conversations, whispers, and fearful glances linger at every corner.
A man walks by, muttering under his breath.
Man (muttering): Same dream... every night... God help us.
Another group passes, laughing nervously, phones in hand.
Woman (to her friend): Look—memes again. "Dream Season 2." Funny, right?
Friend (hesitant): ...Yeah. Funny.
INT. SCHOOL – DAY
Arven sits in class. Students whisper in the back, some scrolling through headlines.
News headline (on phone): "Scientists investigate global nightmare phenomenon."
Another headline: "Preachers warn of Judgment. Is prophecy unfolding?"
Narration: No one knows what to believe. Scientists call it mass hysteria. Priests call it a sign. Civilians... just call it fear.
May sits beside Arven, watching him closely.
May: You look worse every day. Still dreaming?
Arven (quiet): ...Yes.
May (soft): What do you see?
Arven (hesitating): ...A figure. Faceless. Blinding. Calling for help.
May's expression falters, the smile slipping away.
EXT. CAMPUS GROUNDS – AFTERNOON
Classes end. Students gather outside, restless. Some sit in groups, praying quietly. Others joke too loudly, forcing laughter.
Narration: When fear grows too heavy, people cling to what they can—faith, mockery, or denial. But the silence between words always gives them away.
John approaches Arven, serious for once.
John: Don't you think it's strange? Not just the dreams... but how they won't stop?
Arven (nodding slowly): Yeah. It's like they're waiting for something.
They share a heavy silence, the distant hum of the city pressing against them.
EXT. MAY'S HOUSE – EVENING
Arven walks May home. She looks at him, concern in her eyes.
May: If it really is a sign... do you think God's angry at us?
Arven (quiet): I don't know. Maybe it's just a warning. Maybe it's nothing.
They stop at her doorstep. For a moment, the world feels still.
Narration: Stillness. As if the earth itself is listening.
May squeezes his hand before stepping inside.
May: Be careful on the way home.
Arven: Always.
She disappears into the house. Arven turns, walking into the dimming streets.
EXT. STREETS – NIGHT
The city glows under flickering lights. Stray dogs bark, jeepneys rumble past, vendors pack up for the night. Yet everything feels fragile—like a candle flickering against the wind.
Narration: The world is waiting. For what, no one knows. But silence grows heavier with each passing night.
Arven stops, looking up at the sky. Clouds cover the moon. For a moment, he feels the air vibrate faintly, almost like a heartbeat echoing across the heavens.
He swallows hard, forcing himself to keep walking.
Narration: Something is coming. And the silence before it may be the loudest sound of all.
To be continued...