The smell hit Jae-Min first.
Not the sterile, recycled air of Unit 1418. This was different. Raw. Alive. Roasted garlic sizzling in hot oil. Exhaust fumes from a rusted jeepney. The sharp, acidic tang of open sewers baking under thirty-seven degree heat.
Manila was breathing. Loud. Suffocating. Beautiful.
Jae-Min stood on the sidewalk outside Shore Residence 3. The sun hammered the asphalt, blurring the air into rippling waves. Sweat traced down his spine the second he stepped out of the lobby.
He used to hate this heat. He used to complain about it on the way to work.
Now, he closed his eyes and let it bake his skin.
Twenty-three days.
He opened his eyes. The world was too bright. Too loud. A street vendor was hacking a coconut with a machete. Kids in flip-flops were playing basketball in the narrow alley across the street. A stray dog panted under a rusted tricycle.
None of them knew.
In three weeks, that stray dog would be a block of ice. Those kids would shatter like glass. The jeepney would be a frozen tomb on EDSA.
"Oppa."
Ji-Yoo stepped out of the lobby behind him. She wore a white tank top and denim shorts. Her black hair was tied in a messy bun. She had dark circles under her eyes. She hadn't slept.
But she was moving. That was all that mattered.
"You're staring," she said.
"I'm memorizing."
Ji-Yoo looked at the street. The vendor. The kids. The dog.
"It looks the same."
"It won't."
They walked. No destination. Just movement. Jae-Min needed to stretch his legs. Ji-Yoo needed to get out of the steel box.
The sidewalk was crowded. Workers in hard hats. Women carrying umbrellas against the sun. A man pushing a cart of bottled water.
Jae-Min brushed past them. Ghosts. All of them.
"Where are we going?" Ji-Yoo asked.
"Hardware store."
"We have contractors for that."
"I need specific things. Things I can't put on a receipt."
They turned onto a side street. Narrower. Darker. The buildings leaned close, blocking out the sky. The smell of diesel and damp concrete replaced the garlic.
Ji-Yoo's shoulder brushed against a man passing in the opposite direction. She mumbled an apology. The man didn't look up. Just kept walking.
But Jae-Min noticed the man's hands.
They were shaking. Trembling. Not from cold. From hunger. The man's collarbones jutted out sharply against his dirty shirt.
He's starving, Jae-Min thought.
A memory flashed. Day 15. The hallway of Shore Residence. A neighbor biting into another man's neck because he hadn't eaten in a week.
Jae-Min looked away. Swallowed the bile.
They reached the hardware store. A cramped shop with rusted corrugated doors. Inside, it was a labyrinth of steel, wire, and dust.
The air was thick. Metallic. It coated the back of Jae-Min's throat.
He moved through the aisles with precision. A logistics manager in his natural habitat.
"Two rolls of quarter-inch steel cable. Fifty meters each."
The owner, a fat man in a stained white shirt, looked up from a tiny TV. "Heavy stuff. What you building?"
"A jungle gym."
The man grunted. Waddled to the back.
Jae-Min moved to the next aisle. Duct tape. Zip ties. Industrial adhesive. He grabbed handfuls. Stuffed them into a plastic basket.
Ji-Yoo followed. Silent. Watching.
"Oppa."
"Yeah?"
"The man outside. The skinny one."
"What about him?"
"He looked like the people in your memories."
Jae-Min stopped. Looked at her.
"I thought you said you couldn't see my memories."
"I can't. But I see your face when you look at people." Ji-Yoo's voice was quiet. "You look at them like they're already dead."
Jae-Min didn't answer. He picked up a heavy-duty hacksaw. Tested the weight in his hand. Cold. Solid. Real.
"I'm preparing them for what's coming," he said finally. "In my head, I'm already digging their graves."
Ji-Yoo didn't respond. She just picked up a box of heavy-duty nails. Added it to the basket.
They paid in cash. Ten thousand pesos. The owner didn't ask questions. He just took the money and turned back to his TV.
They walked out. The heat hit them like a wall.
Jae-Yoo squinted against the sun. "Now what?"
"Grocery run. The bunker needs more than canned meat. We need salt, water purification tablets, vitamins. Things people forget."
They walked three blocks to a large supermarket. The automatic doors slid open. A blast of artificial cold hit them.
Jae-Min froze.
The cold air from the AC vents brushed his face. Twenty degrees. Maybe eighteen.
It felt like a kiss from a dead lover.
In his first life, by Day 3, the temperature outside had dropped to minus twenty. He had crawled into the freezer section of a ransacked grocery store, just to feel a fraction of warmth. He died shivering in a freezer aisle.
"Oppa?"
He blinked. The supermarket came back into focus. Fluorescent lights. Muzak playing softly. A stock boy stacking cereal boxes.
"I'm fine."
He moved fast. Jae-Min didn't use a cart. He used the void.
He walked down the aisles. Touched a box of salt. It vanished into the black rift behind his ribs. Touched a bottle of iodine. Vanished. A crate of instant coffee. Vanished.
Ji-Yoo walked beside him. Carrying a hand basket. She loaded it with the physical items. Peanut butter. Crackers. Bottled water. Things they needed to use now, before the apocalypse, so the bunker staff didn't get suspicious.
They turned a corner.
And Jae-Min stopped.
End of the aisle. Pharmacy section.
A woman stood there. Indigo hair pulled into a loose ponytail. Blue eyes focused on a bottle of painkillers. She wore a simple white blouse and black slacks. Her stethoscope hung around her neck.
Dr. Alessia Romano Santos.
She looked tired. The kind of bone-deep exhaustion that sleep doesn't fix. A long shift at St. Luke's.
Jae-Min's heart stopped.
In his memories, her hair was matted with blood. Her blue eyes were glassy and empty. Her skull was cracked open like an eggshell.
Now she was standing under fluorescent lights. Alive. Breathing. Real.
"Oppa?" Ji-Yoo noticed his pause. She followed his gaze. "Oh. The pretty doctor."
"Shut up."
"Is that her? The one you like?"
"I said shut up."
Alessia turned. Her blue eyes swept the aisle. Landed on Jae-Min.
A small frown. Recognition.
"Jae-Min?"
Her voice. Soft. Calm. Like cool water on a burn.
"Dr. Santos."
"You remember me." A faint smile. "Most neighbors just call me 'the doctor next door'."
"I remember."
An awkward silence. Ji-Yoo watched them like a hawk. A slow, teasing smile creeping onto her face.
"Jae-Min." Alessia shifted the painkillers in her hand. "I wanted to thank you. For the other morning. When you had that... episode. You scared me, but you also woke me up. I was so exhausted I almost collapsed on the way to my car."
"It was nothing."
"It wasn't nothing. You looked like you'd seen a ghost." She tilted her head. "Are you feeling better?"
"I'm fine."
"Good." She paused. "Are you sure? You look a little pale. And you're sweating. It's freezing in here."
"I'm fine," Jae-Min repeated. Like a robot.
Alessia studied him for a moment. Those piercing blue eyes searching his face.
Then she looked past him. At Ji-Yoo.
"Oh. Hello. I don't think we've met."
Ji-Yoo stepped forward. Smiled wide.
"Hi! I'm Ji-Yoo. Jae-min's twin sister."
Alessia's eyes widened slightly. "Twin? He never mentioned a twin."
"I'm the better looking one."
"Ji-Yoo," Jae-Min warned.
Alessia laughed. A real laugh. Light. Musical.
It shattered something inside Jae-Min's chest.
He hadn't heard that laugh in over a year. Not since the teeth.
"Well, it's nice to meet you, Ji-Yoo." Alessia tucked a strand of indigo hair behind her ear. Nervous habit. "I should get going. Long shift tomorrow."
"Wait."
The word came out before Jae-Min could stop it.
Alessia paused. Looked at him.
"Yes?"
Jae-Min opened his mouth. Closed it.
Tell her. Tell her to stock up on food. Tell her to buy blankets. Tell her the world is ending.
But he couldn't. Not here. Not now. If he told her, she would think he was crazy. Just like his parents.
"Be careful," he said instead. "The streets are getting rough at night."
Alessia blinked. Surprised by the warning.
"Thank you, Jae-Min. I will."
She smiled one last time. Turned. Walked away.
Jae-Min watched her go. The sway of her indigo hair. The curve of her shoulders. The rhythm of her steps.
Alive.
Ji-Yoo stepped up beside him. Elbowed him hard in the ribs.
"Smooth. Very smooth. 'Be careful, the streets are getting rough.' You really know how to charm a woman."
"Let's go."
"Oppa, you're practically drooling."
"Ji-Yoo."
"What? I'm just saying. If the world wasn't ending, I'd set you two up on a date right now."
Jae-Min didn't answer. He just turned and walked toward the exit.
But as he passed the large glass windows at the front of the store, he stopped.
Outside. Across the street.
A black SUV. Tinted windows. Engine running.
The same one from the restaurant.
And sitting on a bench across from it, pretending to read a newspaper, was a man in a gray jacket. He wasn't reading. He was looking directly at the supermarket entrance.
At Jae-Min.
Jae-Min's blood turned to ice.
"Ji-Yoo."
"Yeah?"
"Don't look. But there's a man outside. Gray jacket. Newspaper. Across the street."
Ji-Yoo didn't turn her head. "I see him."
"He wasn't there when we walked in."
"I know."
They stood in the frozen food aisle. Surrounded by ice cream and frozen pizzas. Artificial cold blowing on their faces.
"Who is he?" Ji-Yoo whispered.
"I don't know."
"Is he one of Kiara's people?"
"No. Kiara's people are amateurs. This guy is different."
Jae-Min stared at the man. The man didn't move. Didn't blink. Just watched.
Then, slowly, the man lowered the newspaper.
And smiled.
It wasn't a friendly smile. It was the smile of a predator who knew its prey was cornered.
The man folded the newspaper. Stood up. Walked away. Disappeared into the crowd.
Jae-Min's hand trembled. Not from fear. From rage.
Someone was hunting him.
And they were getting closer.