The Light Calls

Heavy silence swallowed the car as they kept driving.
Each of them, trapped in their own heads, struggled to process what they had seen.

If one person saw it — maybe they were tired.
If two people saw it but one didn’t — perhaps a coincidence of sorts.
But if all three of them saw it?

It's real.

Nanago was the first to break the silence.

"That happened," he said flatly.

Before the others could respond, the sky blinked again — a violent flash that swallowed everything in blinding white.

Soja slammed on the brakes.
The car jolted, tires screaming against the asphalt as they came to a sudden, messy stop. Dazed and disoriented, they rubbed their tired hands against their eyes, blinking rapidly as they tried to shake off the mirage.
When their vision cleared, the world outside looked perfectly normal again.

Soja shouted, voice cutting through the thick air. "What the fuck was that?"

"I don't know," Nanago muttered.

"This is getting... way too scary," Toji said, his voice thinner than usual.

Nanago drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly.
Then he answered, steady.

"It is. But what we just saw makes everything more real. Kita's message... it feels even more important now. We have to keep going. No matter how scary it gets, we have to keep pushing."

Soja sighed, tightening her grip on the steering wheel.

"You're right," she said. "Let's keep moving for now."

They took a few desperate sips of water, like it might wash the tension out of their mouths.

"Can I have one of those protein bars you packed?" Toji asked, voice dry.

"Make that two," Soja said.

Nanago sighed under his breath, then dug around and tossed them each a bar.

An hour must have passed since they first got on the road. With every mile, the tension grew heavier. Anxiety climbed higher.
They were heading toward something — someone — who might finally piece the puzzle together.
The thing they needed most right now was an answer.

"How long 'til we're there?" Toji asked, glancing out the window.

"About two more hours. It's your fault for picking this spot," Soja said, a hint of sarcasm cutting through the stress.

"Let's just hope it's all worth it," Nanago muttered.

Time slipped by as they kept driving and chatting.
With all that time on their hands, walls slowly started to come down — maybe just a little.
A little more trust. A little more understanding.

Still, Nanago couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong.
It almost seemed like they were the only ones who got the warning — like the whole world outside was oblivious.
And since Toji had gotten the message too, maybe there were others.

But why had Kita kept it secret? Why tell only a few?

That part didn’t sit right with Nanago.

Not at all.

Two hours in, Nanago picked up his phone and dialed.

"Think she's gonna answer?" Toji asked.

Nanago didn't respond.
With every hollow ring, the pressure seemed to thicken.
They knew the city they were heading to — Otaka — but not where, exactly.

RING... RING... RING...

Almost like a miracle, Kita picked up.

Nanago didn't waste a second.
"Kita! We're an hour away from Otaka. Where do we meet?"

Kita's voice was quick, urgent:
"I'm sending you the location."

The call cut off immediately after.

Nanago stared at the screen.

A few seconds later, a notification buzzed in — she had sent the location.

Nanago turned the screen toward Soja.
"This... where is this? Do you know it?"

Soja glanced at it, frowning.
"Nope. Never been there. I guess we’ll get there and see."

"I guess so," Nanago said, pocketing the phone.

The road stretched on, taut with silence. Asphalt buzzed beneath the tires, the world around them flickering unnaturally.

Then it happened again.

A third flicker tore through the sky — but this time, it didn’t pass.

It exploded.

Soja slammed the brakes. Rubber screamed against the road.

A blinding white light swallowed everything. It wasn’t just brightness — it had weight, pressure, sound. Like a bomb detonating right beside them. Eardrums collapsed under an invisible wave. Vision shattered into static. Balance was a myth. The world bent sideways, and one by one, they slipped into unconsciousness.

Time passed.

How much, none of them could say.

They all came to their senses at the same time — gasping, blinking, reaching for something solid. The air was still. The car sat motionless in the middle of the road, engine quiet, lights dimmed to a flicker. They looked at each other, barely breathing.

It was like waking from a dream.

Soja’s voice cracked through the haze.

“Are we sure this…”

“No.” Nanago cut in sharply, his voice hoarse but certain. “This can’t be about a simple virus anymore. Whatever this is… it’s something else. Something nobody’s ever seen.”

Toji stared out the windshield like it might give him answers. “What the hell are we supposed to do now? Pretend it didn’t happen and keep it moving?”

Nanago leaned forward, resting his hands on his knees.

“Yeah. We keep moving. We need to reach Otaka. It might be the only way we get answers. But this…” He glanced out the window, eyes searching the sky. “I wonder if Kita knows. Or if this is something else entirely.”

Silence.

The kind of silence that didn’t ask for comfort.

They all swallowed hard. No more words. No more speculation.

Soja started the engine again.

The next thirty minutes were the strangest of the entire trip.

No small talk.
No getting to know each other.
No tension relief.

Just a shared, unspoken agreement: keep going.

Nothing else mattered.

Three long hours later — three hours soaked in dread and quiet — they rolled into the outskirts of Otaka.

Nanago finally broke the silence — the kind that felt as heavy as the earth itself — as he picked up his phone.

“Let’s see… says we’re about fifteen minutes from the meeting point.”

“I think we can make it quicker,” Soja replied, pressing the gas a little harder.

Toji leaned forward between the seats. “Do we call her again or just… hope we find her there? A call can’t hurt.”

Nanago cracked a slight grin. “A call can hurt. Even a text. We’re on this cursed road trip because of a text, remember?” He paused, the smile fading just enough. “Jokes aside… yeah. I’ll call her anyway.”

Nanago dials Kita. With the anxiety running in their blood since this whole thing started, they expect everything to go wrong.

Surprisingly, though, Kita answers in seconds.

“You’re close?” Her voice steady.

“Ten minutes away,” Nanago replied.

“I’m here. See you.” 

And just like that, she ended the call.

Soja chuckled softly from the driver’s seat. “Not a girl of many words, is she?”

Nanago watched the road ahead. “She’s… different today. I think.”

The minutes dragged and folded in on themselves. The sky had dulled again, no more flickers, but the tension didn’t let up. It clung to the air like static.

Eventually, the road spat them out in front of their destination — a huge, seemingly abandoned building.

They parked slowly, quietly. Nobody moved at first.

Then, all at once, doors creaked open and they stepped out, boots crunching against the gravel. The wind passed through the building with a low, ghostlike whistle.

They looked at each other. No words — just a tangle of uncertainty in their eyes.

Nanago finally spoke, voice low and uneven.

“Let’s walk in.”