Alex rested through the humid afternoon, the ceiling fan above him clicking with a lazy rhythm. His dreams were a blur of shadowy forests and distorted faces, all whispering in forgotten tongues. But it wasn't the dreams that stirred him—it was a soft knock on the door just before sunset.
He opened it to find Lila standing there, clutching something in her hands.
"I'm sorry to bother you, sir," she said softly, "but I have a message for you."
Alex blinked. "A message? From whom?"
"You've been asking a lot about our town," she said. "About the stories, I mentioned it to our elders. They want to speak with you."
There was a pause.
Something felt off—but not in a threatening way. A shift in the wind, a page turning in a larger book.
He wasn't the same person he was weeks ago. He had power now. Reflexes, perception, strength. He'd come here to face the shadows, not run from them.
"Alright," Alex said, reaching for his duffle bag. Inside, the kamagong sticks lay nestled beside protein bars and clean shirts. "Lead the way."
Outside, a tricycle waited under the dusky sky. The driver, a wiry man in his fifties, sat silently behind the handlebars.
"This is Kuya Emong," Lila said. "He'll take you. I can't come—I'm still on duty."
"No problem," Alex nodded, stepping into the trike's sidecar.
The engine grumbled to life, and the town faded behind them.
They drove for more than an hour, the paved roads giving way to gravel, then dirt, then a winding trail flanked by thick forest. Trees crowded the path like watchful giants. Birds grew silent.
"How long have you been driving?" Alex asked, breaking the quiet.
"Five years," Emong answered. "Used to be a farmer. Storms ruined everything. Now I drive."
"Where are we going exactly?"
"To the elders, our tribe leaders. They've been expecting you."
"Expecting me?"
Emong shrugged. "I only drive."
Eventually, the path opened into a clearing. A modest nipa hut stood alone in the fading light, its thatched roof weathered but neat. Smoke rose faintly from the chimney.
"We're here," Emong said. "Just go inside. They're waiting."
Alex stepped down, eyes scanning the woods. Quiet. Still.
His senses—amplified since awakening the system—searched for vibrations, shifts in air pressure, and movement. Nothing dangerous. Nothing obvious.
He knocked.
The door creaked open, revealing an elderly man with kind, intelligent eyes. "Good afternoon," the old man said. "Come in, please."
Inside, another elder—a woman with silver hair and regal poise—sat on a wooden chair by the hearth. She gestured to the seat across from her.
"Welcome, young man. I am Lola Adora. My husband is Diego."
"I'm Alex," he said, settling into the chair. "Thanks for having me."
Lola Adora smiled, but there was something wolfish beneath it. "We were going to offer you something... But we figured you'd say no. So let's get straight to the point."
Alex nodded, grateful. "I appreciate the efficiency," Alex replied, sitting opposite her.
"First, let me ask you something," Lola Adora said, her eyes glinting. "You look mestizo, don't you?"
Alex raised an eyebrow. "Yeah. My father was German. I never met him. My mom's from Samar."
"Then you are half-Filipino, half-German," Diego said.
"True. But I was born here. Filipino, through and through."
"We're similar, then," said Adora.
"You're half German too?" Alex asked, frowning.
Adora chuckled. "No. We're pure Filipino, but we're also... half something else."
"What do you mean?"
"We are half human," she said.
A chill danced down Alex's spine. His grip tightened on the armrest.
He stared at them, trying to decipher if this was a joke or some elaborate performance
"Sorry, did you say 'half human'?"
"We've lived in this land for over five hundred years," Diego said calmly. "We belong to an ancient bloodline, a cursed race, hunted through the ages."
Alex's eyebrows nearly leapt off his face. "You look great for your age."
Lola Adora laughed. "Thank you. We moisturize with secrets."
"Our ancestors were not kind," Adora continued. "They fed on humans and bred with them. The result... is us."
Alex stared. Words escaped him.
"You're not the first to be shocked," she said gently. "Our kind survived by hiding. The government knows about us but sees no threat. We're weaker than our ancestors—tamer."
Diego leaned forward. "You have questions. Ask."
"Why tell me this?"
"Because you're powerful," Adora replied. "We sensed it the moment you arrived—your energy echoes through the ground. When our granddaughter saw you, we knew we had to act quickly. We didn't want... misunderstandings."
"You're saying you're not monsters?"
"We are not," Adora said firmly. "But there are monsters. Our ancestors—what's left of them—have changed. Evolved. They hide in forests and prey on humans. They're the ones the stories warn about."
Alex processed this in silence.
"But... you said you're half-monster too. Do you... still eat people?"
Diego nodded. "Not like them. They need to feed constantly, like predators. We don't. Every ninety days, we require... a small amount to sustain life force."
Alex tensed.
"We only take from criminals," Adora added. "Murderers. Rapists. The kind the world won't miss."
"Well," Alex muttered. "Good to know I don't qualify."
The couple laughed.
"You're safe," said Adora. "Even if we wanted to harm you—we couldn't."
Alex nodded slowly. "So what do you want from me?"
"Understanding," Diego replied. "We needed to make sure you knew—we're not your enemy."
Alex sat back. Processing. "And the others? The real monsters?"
"They hunt only at night," said Adora. "They're blind by day—evolution twisted them. If you want to find them... wait until dark. Go into the woods. They'll find you."
"Are they stronger than you?"
"Yes," Diego said gravely. "They have abilities—claws with poison, fangs, invisibility. Be careful."
"I will," Alex promised. Then, with a touch of curiosity, he asked, "You said you've lived for centuries. So you were here when the Spaniards came?"
Adora gave a faint smile. "Yes. We had our own warriors. We had cities. Civilization. But we lost the war, and history is written by the victors."
"So we weren't savages?"
"Far from it," she said. "That's a story for another time, maybe when you survive what's to come."
Alex stood. "I hope we can talk again."
"We will pray for your success," Adora said, placing a hand over her heart.
He stood, giving them both a respectful nod. "Thank you. Until we meet again."
The tricycle ride back felt shorter. Alex stared into the trees as they passed, heart still echoing from the truth he'd just heard.
The world has bigger secrets than the broadcast had let on.
And the countdown to the Cataclysm?
It wasn't just a training anymore.
This is war.