Sweat drops accumulated at the back of my neck when the people stared at me with curiosity, hostility, and most of all disbelief.

Some also looked at the sky, still speckled with small Zickzack lines.

Suddenly someone pulled on my arm, diverting my attention.

“Hello.”

I spun around. A boy with dark hair was plucking my sleeve hesitantly.

“It was you, right?” He asked curiously. 

I recognized him. He was the kid who fell down earlier. The child had black short locks and tawny skin with brown eyes. The neon yellow backpack on his back shone brightly in the dull light.

George Kruger eyed him suspiciously. Arno Holmann and a young girl, who had found a liking to the big man in the turmoil earlier and now followed him around, shot curious glances at him.

I was looking back and forth between him and the noisy crowd.

“That thing, you could hear it too.” The boy returned my attention back to him and made me look straight into his eyes. He was determined. He pulled my bag's strap slightly so that I lunged down a bit. Then he whispered, “The warning earlier was for you, right?”

What warning? Could he mean… “… the cheeky voice?” 

He hesitated and thought for a moment, then he nodded. “We have to do what fate tells us. Let’s go,” the boy said.

I was stunned. So, he had heard the tiny voice too and had denounced that from all the people around; it had spoken to me.

Just because I was asking ‘fate’ a question.

“My name is Phee. There is little time left.” He held his hand for a shake, still looking straight into my eyes.

Still in a trance, I took his hand and shook it lightly. I shot a look at the standing people. They still had not calmed down. The boy pulled me in the direction of the tower.

“Let’s survive together!” George Kruger suddenly shouted. He then looked at me as if seeking approval. Reflexively, I nodded to him, and he lead the people on,

“To the tower! The mist is nothing to fear. Follow me!”

The boy, Phee, looked at me, too. But his gaze was colder. He seemed to look right through me, analyzing, dissecting me. It made me uncomfortable.

The tower was dark as before and the statues stood humanlike as before. Nothing changed, but I felt colder. Maybe the fog got denser again?

I sneaked up to George Kruger and whispered. “We have to destroy the statue of the boy.”

At that exact moment, somebody smashed a stone into the statue. But it held up without a scratch. George Kruger flinched.

“… How so? It’s stone.” George Kruger said and shrugged his shoulders.

'Get the ruler’s love. Break it apart. There has to be a way,' I thought, biting my lip.

“Do you believe me?” I asked quietly, locking my eye with his light brown eyes. Again, I realized how long his lashes were.

“Okay.” He said.

“Even if I say something unrealistic, you have to believe me!” 'I dearly hope this works.'

I tried to sound as determined as possible, also to make myself believe in this.

“Miss, just say whatever. We only have a little more than a minute!” Phee said, shoving me to the statue that looked at us auspiciously.

I took a deep breath. 'Here goes nothing.'

“The petrified people break apart and shatter.” 

Nothing happened.

{Oh~ I told you!}

'Yeah, fuck you too.'

“Try again,” Phee said, “and believe it this time. Think, that it will really happen.” He locked his tiny hand with mine.

I closed my eyes. On the dark screen of my lids in front of my inner eye, I pictured the statue of the boy. A boy wearing old-fashioned clothes. His ring, his expression, waiting for his father’s message, never knowing what happened, gray granite stone.

“The petrified people break apart and shatter,” I said again.

Nothing happened. 

Again. Nothing happened.

The grip of the fingers on my hand intensified. “Imagine it scattering. I will too!” he said.

I let the statue in my mind explode. It rained down ash and shards of stone. The image was vivid in front of me but vanished as soon as I opened my eyes.

Wait. What did Phee say? He would imagine it, too? I remembered. I wasn’t special. Group dynamics formed the power of belief. The power operating the Voice.

{Only 90 seconds remain before fate will close the gates forever,} The voice said, making the word ‘forever’ echo not only in the calm environment but also in our heads.

I opened my eyes, concentrating. If you want to convince someone, you have to form an image in their head first. Make it imaginable…

I took a few deep breaths and used my hands to metaphorically push down the weight that had accumulated in my stomach area again. 

Then I opened my mouth to a scream. I used my total energy for this one sentence while pointing at the sky.

“There is a meteor! Watch out!”

Dozens of gazes shot up, looking for a light. And then really, a small ball of orange light grew bigger and bigger and came undoubtedly closer.

I took a few steps to the side. 

The ball of fire emitted a glaring light and a hissing sound. Dust rose because the floor started vibrating. The statues, too, juddered. Small cracks appeared under the eyes of George Kruger’s young grandmother, making it look like she had started crying.

I looked up again. The small fireball had grown to the size of a basketball. Only a few moments till it would collide with the ground. With us. 

Only now that the ball was the size of a medicine ball, I realized how fatal its collision would be. No matter where the impact would be, we would all become fried chicken in the process. 

Panic soared up in me again.

But no matter where I looked, I could see no exit except the tower.

“How many are we?” I asked. My voice was a few pitches higher than I had intended. I couldn’t hide my panic. 

An impact on my hand confused me, then made me calm down. Phee pressed my hand tight. His palm was cold and sweaty. I wouldn’t lose my composure in front of this child when he himself was so calm. I wouldn't!

George Kruger’s voice had a meticulously calming effect in that situation. Whereas it probably was not the sound of his voice but rather the words he spoke.

“We are exactly 24 people.”

So we were the right number. "Divide them into two groups!” I shouted to George Kruger through the dust screen.

I heard him calmly talking to the people. They nudged and whispered, but they followed his orders promptly.

Suddenly, a loud bang detonated near us.

I looked up. The looming fireball of destruction had grown to the size of a grown man. But it was still descending.

Where did the explosion come from? 

One couldn’t see anything through the dust.

“What? It just broke. I just touched it lightly!” I heard a familiar voice through the cover. A voice that made me highly uncomfortable.

In that instant, a light shone down from the tower's entrance. The two angels with a hundred arms holding a spear in each one opened the way to the tower.

Gwan Shinil must have accidentally destroyed the ruler’s son’s statue.

“All march to the tower! Fast!” the former group leader yelled from the depth of his soul. Like his life depended on it. After all, it did. All our lives depended on the speed at which we entered the tower. 

People rushed inside, shoving and pushing. Luckily, nobody fell or blocked the path. 

We nudged together into a crowd. I could hear multiple people's breath right next to me. George Kruger had run very far into the passageway, and I lost sight of him as soon as other people rushed in. Phee still tugged at my sleeve.

For only a moment the interior of the hall brightened up, before the angel giant statues closed up the entrance and engulfed us in pitchblack darkness right before the meteor fell down on the plane.

However, inside the tower, we only heard a dull thump when we imagined the world breaking apart.