A young man stood waiting at a bus stop after working all night. The only thing on his mind was getting home to rest.
It was dark, the only light coming from a street lamp that flickered constantly, its low buzz the only sound breaking the silence.
He leaned against the plexiglass shelter, staring down the road from which the bus would come. Rubbing his eyes, he felt exhaustion taking over. He was certain if he sat down, he would fall asleep. That's why he chose to stand.
He pulled his phone from his pocket to check the time. At least ten more minutes until the bus arrived. Rather than stare into nothingness, he scrolled through his phone to pass the time.
A couple of minutes later, he looked up and noticed how dark and quiet the night had become. It felt eerie, as if he were the only living person in the city. Looking around, he saw that all the street lamps were dead, no longer emitting light or sound. He turned his attention to the buildings—not a single light shone from any window. Given the hour, the lack of activity wasn't strange, yet it felt wrong. It felt deeply off.
He was snapped from his thoughts by the alarm from his phone. He had set it for the bus's arrival, in case he dozed off—it wouldn't be the first time. The last thing he wanted was to wait another forty minutes for the next bus.
Any minute now, he thought. Yet as time passed with no bus in sight, he grew annoyed.
"Did they change the schedule?"
He grabbed his phone to check, but no matter how many times he tried to unlock it, the screen remained dark, reflecting only his puzzled face.
"Cassian."
His eyes snapped open and he jerked forward as if pulled by a rope. He instantly turned and scanned the area, searching for the woman whose voice had called his name.
Nothing.
No one else was there, yet he could have sworn someone had whispered his name right next to his ear.
"I'm so tired I'm hearing voices."
"Cassian."
Again, Cassian jerked forward and spun around. Again, there was nothing. He looked around, a cold sweat forming on the back of his neck. Countless thoughts raced through his head. Was this an elaborate prank? A lucid dream? Had his fatigue finally triggered auditory hallucinations?
Deep in thought, he didn't notice the darkness creeping from all directions, swallowing everything around him.
Then it happened again.
This time, however, it wasn't just his name. He could hear the voice speaking. Now it didn't sound like a whisper beside his ear, but like his own inner voice speaking to him—yet he couldn't understand the words. The voice grew louder with every second.
Cassian grabbed his head with both hands, feeling like it was about to explode. He fell to his knees, dizzy and unable to stand. The voice was now practically screaming at him, robbing him of the ability to think.
Then everything went quiet, as if he had gone deaf.
He lifted his head and saw nothing. Darkness surrounded him, held back only by the flickering light of the bus stop. His breathing became ragged, as if he were having a panic attack.
He slowly rose to his feet when the voice returned. This time it wasn't screaming or calling his name.
"You've been chosen."
A fraction of a second after that strange proclamation, Cassian was blinded by a light so powerful he felt as if his eyes were melting. The sensation lasted only a second—just like the light.
Then he felt the worst pain of his life.
It felt as if he were being torn apart on a molecular level.
The agony lasted no more than a second, but to Cassian it felt much longer.
Then the pain stopped.
When Cassian opened his eyes again, he was no longer on the street by the bus stop. He found himself in an unfamiliar place.
He looked around, trying to understand both what had happened and where he was. He took a couple of deep breaths, trying to calm himself and order his thoughts.
The first thing he noticed was that he was indoors, in what looked like a giant hall filled with rows of wooden seats resembling those in a church. Cassian tried to stand, but his whole body felt weak and tired. Instead, he remained sitting on the hard floor, scanning his surroundings, trying to make sense of it all.
Just a second ago he had been waiting at the bus stop when he started hearing things. Then everything turned black before a sudden light blinded him. And now he was here.
"Did I die?"
That would make sense. If he had fallen asleep and stumbled into the road, the bright light could have been the headlights of the vehicle that killed him.
"But then again, what is this place? It looks like a church."
An old and decrepit one, to be precise. The place was falling apart, and a thick layer of dust covered everything. Feeling a little better, Cassian stood up to get a better look. It resembled a small medieval village church. A faint light came from the windows, but only barely, as they were shuttered. Most of the light came from holes in the ceiling—which was also strange, since the sun shouldn't be up for at least a couple more hours. Yet, given his situation, that was the least of his worries.
Feeling sick from the dust he had inhaled, he walked toward the church's gate to get out. He pushed against the heavy oak, but it didn't budge. It felt like pushing against a solid wall. The iron straps were cold and fused with rust. He shoved his shoulder into it, the pain sharp but manageable, but still nothing moved. He tried a second time, using all his strength.
For a moment, nothing. Then, with a sound like a deep groan, something gave way. The bottom scraped forward an inch, tearing through centuries of compacted dirt and moss. Gritting his teeth, he threw his weight against it again. The gate screamed a chorus of breaking rust, splintering wood, and grinding stone.
Then it happened: the gate swung open, and a blinding slab of daylight hit him, along with a rush of clean, cold air. He lowered his hands from his eyes and looked at the sky, stunned by what he saw.
There, in the sky, were two suns.