"This is a disaster, and we do not know what is happening."

Those were the first official words spoken to the world.

They came from the President of Cuba, his face pal, his voice carrying the weight of a man who had been handed a nightmare no nation was prepared to face.

On May 5th, 2027, humanity suffered its greatest calamity.

Without warning, nearly one percent of the world's population collapsed into unconsciousness.

No illness.

No attack.

No warning signs.

One moment, they were alive. The next, they were gone. Not dead, but empty. Their bodies are still breathing, their hearts still beating, yet their minds no longer respond. Doctors described them as a blank slate of paper.

By the end of the week, the World Health Organization confirmed the impossible. 83 million people had fallen unconscious across the globe. Millions more died in the chaos that followed. Drivers blacked out behind the wheel, sending cars crashing into the crowd. Air traffic controllers stopped responding. Pilots slumped over in their seats, and in the worst cases, backup pilots fell unconscious as well, which resulted in planes falling down the sky.

Hospitals overflowed within hours. Police forces broke down. Families tore through cities searching for loved ones who would never answer them. And for the first time in modern history, every government on Earth was forced to admit the same terrifying truth. No one knew why.

In the second week of the incident, the United Nations headquarters in New York became the center of the world. The emergency meeting was called under unprecedented pressure. Leaders of the G7, members of the Security Council, and representatives from every affected nation gathered in the assembly hall. The usual political distance was gone. No smiles. No practiced diplomacy. No careful handshakes for the cameras. Only fear. The Secretary-General stood first. His hands gripped the sides of the podium as he looked over the hall, his face worn by exhaustion.

"Before we begin, we will honor the lives already lost in this catastrophe."

The screens behind him lit up with numbers.

Estimated unconscious: 83,214,602

Estimated dead due to secondary incidents: 6,912,014

Estimated displaced or injured: 41,000,000 and rising

A heavy silence fell over the room.

No one moved.

For one full minute, the world's leaders stood in silence.

When the silence ended, the Prime Minister of Japan was the first to request the floor.

He walked to the podium with a folder in his hand and a face that had lost all color.

"Our scientists and emergency response teams have prepared a preliminary statistical report," he began. "I must stress that these numbers are not final. However, the pattern is too abnormal to ignore."

The main screen changed. A world map appeared, marked with red points. Each red point marked a region with the highest number of people who had fallen unconscious. At first, many assumed the most populated regions would be the darkest. China. India. United States. Indonesia. Brazil. But they were not. The markings were disturbingly even.

Japan's Prime Minister continued, his voice lower now.

"The number of unconscious individuals does not appear to follow population density. China and India, despite having populations exceeding one billion each, report numbers shockingly close to countries such as Finland, Sweden, and Norway."

Murmurs spread through the chamber.

He turned toward the screen and pointed to the data.

"The same pattern repeats across continents. The Middle East and Africa report numbers comparable to north and south america. Europe, despite its population difference between nations, shows a similar pattern."

The room grew colder.

"Based on this distribution," he said, "we must consider the possibility that this was not random."

The word hung in the air like a blade. Random would have been terrifying. But intentional? That was worse. The President of the United States stood next. He did not wait for the usual formalities. His voice was controlled, but there was steel beneath it.

"If any nation, organization, faction, or entity is responsible for this attack, then hear me clearly."

The room went silent.

"Come forward. Confess. Explain what you have done and how to reverse it."

He leaned closer to the microphone.

"Because if you do not, and if we discover who is responsible, the response will not come from one country. It will come from the entire world."

Several representatives exchanged uneasy looks. The American president's eyes hardened.

"And when that happens, there will be nowhere to hide."

For once, no one interrupted. No one accused him of aggression. No one called it theater. Because every leader in that room was thinking the same thing.

If something had the power to erase 83 million people in a single day, then the world was already at war. It simply did not know who it was.

After hours of debate, the Security Council reached an agreement that would have been impossible only days earlier.

All ongoing wars were to be suspended immediately.

Ceasefires were to be enforced across every active conflict zone. Military resources were to be redirected toward stabilization, evacuation, medical transport, and protection of civilian populations.

The statement was read aloud before the assembly.

"Until the nature of this event is understood, humanity cannot afford to continue fighting itself."

No one celebrated the decision. There was no applause. Only grim acceptance. Old enemies were now being forced to cooperate. Borders that had been closed for decades were to be opened for humanitarian convoys. Neighboring countries were encouraged and even expected to assist one another, regardless of past disputes.

Aid would be sent first to the nations least capable of handling the collapse. Food, medicine, emergency generators, temporary shelters, and medical personnel were to be deployed within 24 hours.

A second resolution followed. Crime had surged worldwide. With police departments weakened, looting and violence had erupted in several major cities. Smaller nations where already stretched beyond their limits had no choice but to ask for help.

In response, a temporary global security agreement was drafted. Major powers would provide support to smaller and vulnerable states, not as occupying forces, but as emergency stabilizing units under international observation. Their mission was simple: protect hospitals, food supply routes, refugee zones, and the unconscious.

That last part became the focus of the next emergency measure. 83 million unconscious people needed shelter, food, medical care, and protection.

The WHO proposed the creation of protected field hospitals in stadiums, schools, military bases, airports, and open land outside major cities. These facilities would provide medical assistance and also act as guarded zones to prevent harm from reaching the unconscious.

By the time the meeting ended, the sun had already set. Inside the United Nations headquarters, leaders remained seated long after the cameras stopped broadcasting. Some stared at the reports in front of them. Others whispered into phones, giving orders to governments that were barely holding together.

Humanity had made its first united decision, but far away from the assembly hall, beyond the reach of cameras and satellites, someone watched in silence. 

The figure sat in darkness, the glow of the screen reflecting faintly against a calm, smiling face. On the screen, the world's leaders spoke of unity, survival, justice, and retaliation. The smile widened. A soft laugh escaped the darkness. 

Then the figure leaned forward and whispered:

"Let the games begin."

***

I don't know when I lost consciousness. One moment, I was staring at the crucified bodies. The next, everything collapsed into darkness.

When I opened my eyes again, I was on the floor, gasping for air. For a few seconds, I couldn't tell what had been real. The bodies were gone. The crows were gone. Only the ruined city remained.

I pressed a trembling hand against my face.

"Was that… an illusion? No, that can't be. It felt so real."

Too spoked and scared I decided to return to wherever I came from and call it a day

"This is too much for me to handle, I can't"

As I was planning to leave, I heard a sound from a distance. The voice is like electricity that is discharging or something that is turning on like a car but much more subtle.

Hoping for a chance to see another human, I hurriedly pursued the distant sound. As I was getting closer and closer while making sure I'm not exposed to the other side since the enemy that butchered those humans might be the one welcoming me.

I reach a small hill that surreys the other side well, also providing cover. As I slowly peek my head, I see a scene that could only be described as otherworldly.

I saw two humanoid life forms, a tall masculine male with bone protruding from his shoulders like an arc, like the father in the picture. On the other side a humanoid person fully clad in military armor from head to toe with a robe over it and covering his face with a gas mask making it impossible to discern his identity.

The masculine male is clearly from the bone race. The only difference from the photo is that their skeletal form seems to glow with an otherworldly blue hue. It's a sight that's both majestic and terrifying. It's like energy is coursing throughout his body.

What makes this situation intriguing is the fact that the one clad with military uniform is holding a familiar weapon. A M1903 Springfield that has a larger upper hand guard and a muzzle that is not long and sharp, but rather short and wide, as if the projectile used is not a bullet but rather something else. 

It would seem that they were about to fight. That was obviously so from the hostile looks from the bone creature. 

With a steady hand, the soldier aims his weapon before firing, Mr. Bones shifted to the right with speed unfathomable and then lunged forward to devour the soldier. The distance between them is 50 meters yet he crossed it in 2 seconds which reinforces the idea that this bone race is not to be messed with. 

As the bone creature lunges forward, the soldier fires an energy projectile streaking through the air with deadly precision. It collides with the bone creature, unleashing a burst of energy that tears through its glowing bones, causing it to convulse.

From the looks of it the bone creature is not going to last long. As I was waiting to see the result of the dual, the soldier aimed his weapon at my location. 

Scared shitless and not wishing to end up like the bone creature, I ducked as fast as possible and shouted: "I'M ALSO HUMAN!"

I heard a reply: "You can come out. I won't hurt you."

I said: "How do I make sure of that?"

The soldier out of patience said with an urgent tone: "Are you from Earth?"

The soldier moved to the bone race creature with a moderate path not caring for my answer, nor scared of any retaliation I could do to hurt him.

He took out a knife and started carving out the portraying bones. After removing each one like he has done it thousands of times, he looks at me for a few seconds sizing me up and down. 

He nods his head, turns around and starts walking in the other direction. 

Not wanting to waste anymore time since this is enough to know the race of the soldier. I ran to him. Once I reached him, I said: "No way another human? Where are we? What are those creatures? How do we get out of here?"

Feeling somewhat irritated by the loud voice and the multiple questions the soldier said: "Follow me we can't talk here. It's not safe."

As we moved, the soldier led the way with determined strides. We navigated through the labyrinthine ruins. After a couple of hours, the sun is about to set and there seems to be no end to our walk. I didn't complain one bit since this soldier is my ticket for survival, but that didn't change the fact that I was exhausted mentally and physically. 

Just when I'm about to lose hope, the soldier said: "We have arrived."

As I scanned the desolate landscape, my attention was abruptly seized by another ruined building, no more promising than what I call a base. However, what distinguished this structure was a looming metallic door at the ground floor, ominous in its appearance, with two apertures hinting at the possibility of concealed weaponry likely LMGs. 

Advancing cautiously, the soldier announced, "Carl, we've arrived." Yet, Carl's bewilderment was palpable as another soldier revealed himself through an additional gap in the door, prompting Carl to inquire, "We?"

the soldier insisted, "Yes, 'we'. Now, open up."

The guard unlatched the door, granting us access to the bunker. Descending into the depths of the earth. We then reached the heart of the bunker, where dimly lit corridors stretched out like veins through the earth. Fluorescent lights flickered overhead, casting eerie shadows against the damp walls. The air was heavy with the scent of earth and metal. Despite the darkness that surrounded us, there was a sense of safety within the bunker.

The soldier said: "Welcome to the last human shelter in this hell. We call it Beacon."