First Light of a New Age

The air in Davao City, Imperial Maharlika, was electric, not just with the humid January evening, but with the lingering joy of New Year's celebrations. Thirteenth-year-old Serena walked beside her father, Antonio, the vibrant lights of the Davao River shimmering a festive welcome.
Then, without warning, the sky tore open. What began as an unpredicted storm escalated into a terrifying spectacle of crimson lightning and a deafening, unearthly roar that shook the very foundations of the city. Air raid sirens wailed, a sound Serena had only ever heard in drills, and the once-festive streets erupted into a panicked throng.
Antonio's grip on her arm was tight, pulling her forward, away from the groceries and the gift for her mother that tumbled from her dropped bag. Ahead, the golden arch of the Metro Rail Transit System, usually a symbol of comfort, now seemed a gaping maw, swallowing desperate citizens. Police officers struggled, shouted, and then, a chilling command: "Close the gates!"
Serena's heart pounded, a primal fear seizing her as she descended into the chaotic depths of the station. Behind them, a monstrous roar, screams, and the sharp crack of gunfire echoed. Her mother. Was she safe? Or caught in this sudden, inexplicable nightmare?
