The dawn was majestic when I arrived at Hagnaya Port. The sky was painted in shades of orange and red, like a furious artist had flung his palette in a burst of creative anger, leaving behind a mess of colors—raw yet stunning. Waves crashed against the shore, their deafening retreat mingling with the soggy groan of truck tires on damp soil. Though the area had been swept, bits of trash still lingered in forgotten corners, a testament to either the cleaners' low pay or the never-ending tide of litter.

A mossy, nostalgic scent mixed with the sharp tang of salt filled the air, triggering a rush of memories.

Ah, those were the days.

Hagnaya Port was the only gateway to Bantayan Island. The retreat house we were visiting was near Kota Beach. Though the earliest trip was at four-thirty, we had agreed on the nine-thirty trip with a call time at five-thirty. Yet I arrived an hour earlier. Too early, in fact.

It nagged me—I couldn’t understand why we hadn’t just taken the six-thirty trip since everyone was supposed to meet at five. But it was no wonder I was ahead of schedule. I hadn’t traveled from the city like the others. Molly and I had gone back to our hometown the night before, making Hagnaya only an hour away from Tabogon.

I scanned the area. Not a single co-teacher in sight.

Only a few vendors milled around, their sleepy faces barely hidden under sunhats, and some manongs stood by the restroom, waiting for loose change. Then came a twist in my stomach.

I needed the toilet. Badly.

Afterward, I mumbled under my breath about the ten-peso fee. Sure, maintenance was important, but ten pesos felt like robbery.

My stomach protested again.

Three restroom trips later, I finally headed toward the ticket booth, clutching my abdomen.

The waiting area was a sorry sight—rickety benches and plastic chairs, some with missing legs replaced by splintered four-by-fours. I sank onto a chair and checked my phone.

Forty-four missed calls.

Thirteen text messages.

Crap.

My phone had been on silent, and, as usual, my default messaging app was acting up. It wouldn’t notify me of incoming texts unless I opened the app manually.

Sweat pricked my temples. I was doomed.

Fumbling, I called my best friend, Vhina.

The line clicked.

“Hey, are you still asleep—”

“Where are you!” she hissed, clearly trying to stay quiet. “Teacher Mary is fuming. We’ve called you a million times!”

“What? I’m already here at Hagnaya.”

“What? You weren’t listening during the meeting, were you? The call time was five-thirty at school! School, Elly! Not Hagnaya!”

I blinked. The empty port and the swaying barge confirmed it.

“Uh... Can you cover for me? Please? Best friend privileges?” I pleaded in my most chipmunk voice.

“Best friend your face. Check your messages for once. You’re practically living like a cavewoman!”

“You know I uninstalled Messenger.”

“Right, right. Because of that ‘no distractions’ phase. Ugh, fine. I’ll cover you. But you owe me big time.”

“Thank you! I’ll buy you food once we reach Bantayan. Promise!”

“You better! And Elly? Seriously, Bernard’s still waiting for you to notice him. Quit being so picky!”

“Vhi, we’re not talking about this again—”

“Fine! Gotta go. Teacher Mary’s coming!”

The line cut off.

I exhaled and smacked my cheeks with both hands. It helped me focus on my predicament.

With arms crossed, I watched the barge swaying gently on the waves. Its massive gray structure was just as my father once described—the Kulbahinam Barge, a large vessel with twelve passenger cabins, forty double decks, and too many weathered plastic chairs bolted to the deck. It belonged to the Garcia family, a shipping empire. Father used to work for them when he was alive.

The sun climbed higher, gilding the horizon in a pale golden hue, but the warmth only made me yawn. I popped in my AirPods, played some Korean ballads, and drifted off to sleep.

*****

A rough nudge startled me awake.

“Elly? Elly!”

My eyes snapped open. Vhina’s face loomed over mine, her black hair sticking to her sweaty forehead. Behind her, the sun was glaring full force, making me squint.

“Finally! We’ve been calling you for ages!” she scolded, hands on her hips.

I blinked the sleep away and fumbled for my phone.

Dead. Fantastic.

“Wait, how’d you get here so fast?” I asked, scrambling upright.

“Fast? Check what time it is. We’ve been waiting for you on the other side of the port. You really slept through everything?”

“Uh... yeah. Must’ve dozed off.”

Vhina exhaled through her nose, the way she always did when resisting the urge to strangle me. “Teacher Mary’s furious. She almost left without you.”

“Let me guess. You saved my butt.”

“Barely. You owe me food and—ugh—maybe my dignity, too.”

Behind her, the rest of our co-teachers gathered near the barge, some munching on packed breakfasts, others snapping selfies. Teacher Mary stood farther back, clutching her clipboard like a weapon.

Vhina tugged my arm. “Come on before she notices you.”

The massive ship was still docked peacefully, but a line of ant-like figures had already begun boarding. The Kulbahinam barge’s horn blasted, warning the nine-thirty passengers who hadn’t boarded yet. I scrambled, searching for my belongings. They were gone.

“Alyssa and Ritchelle already grabbed your stuff. Let’s go, or you’ll be stuck on the eleven-thirty trip alone,” Vhina whispered in a half-threatening, half-awkward voice. I didn’t buy it but hurried anyway.

We made it aboard just in time, but we were too late for the first assembly.

This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

“Your things are on your bed already. The four of us are sharing a room, by the way,” Alyssa informed me, anticipating my question.

I scanned the passengers scattered across the barge. Most looked like everyday travelers: a middle-aged man with a stethoscope—probably a doctor; a buff student in a varsity jacket; and a frail, young-looking old woman wearing a Pikachu shirt and a tattered saya—likely a vendor. Among them were our fellow teachers from Arullina.

Teacher Mary was wrapping up instructions for the student council, reminding them about the dos and don’ts at the retreat house. I noticed Vhina handing Priscilla, the energetic student council president, a script for her speech. Priscilla couldn’t sit still, so Vhina had already planned tasks for her once we arrived.

Teacher Samuel, the council adviser, was pacing near the cabins, searching for Joseph, the quiet and socially withdrawn vice president. Teacher Samuel had practically forced him into the position, hoping it would improve his nearly failing grades. Joseph didn’t mind; his duties were minimal, especially since Priscilla never gave him the chance to step up.

I was searching for Josh when I caught sight of Finlay darting around the deck. The railings were dangerously low, inviting an accident waiting to happen for someone like him. I spotted Josh talking with teacher Mary at the rear deck and approached.

“Hi! Good morning, teacher Mary!” I greeted carefully, still wary of her cool demeanor after our last misunderstanding.

“Good morning to you, too,” she replied, professional as ever.

“Can I borrow Josh for a sec, cher?” I asked, hoping for no further friction.

“Of course. I was just discussing Finlay with him. A passenger mentioned he knocked a vase off a crew cabin earlier.”

“That’s actually what I needed to talk to him about. He was running too close to the railings just now.”

“I already gave him a workbook to keep him occupied in my cabin,” Josh added, visibly drained. “He’ll face more reprimands later from both teacher Mary and me. Anyway, I need to find Rex—I have something to give him. Excuse me.”

I sensed his stress and figured he was eager to avoid more conversations about Finlay’s behavior. Still, I followed as he headed toward the starboard.

Rex stood leaning on the rail, gazing out at the endless blue, the wind tugging his hair. Josh’s nephew, the council treasurer, was often teased for being spacey and distracted, but most people didn’t know the truth—there was a storm inside him. Rumors had reached us through the guidance counselor: Rex had once tried to take his own life. His family’s constant comparisons had left him broken, his mother favoring his siblings while belittling his supposed lack of talent.

He was meant to become an engineer but defied expectations, choosing to follow his uncle’s path as a teacher. Unfortunately, he’d also picked up Josh’s bad habits before.

I watched from behind a metal fixture as Rex pulled a cigarette from his breast pocket. Before he could light it, Josh snatched the pack from his hands and flung it into the sea.

“Still doing this?” Josh snapped. “Didn’t I tell you to stop?”

“It helps me relax,” Rex shot back.

“Teacher Mary’s looking for you. She needs the budget report for the retreat, including food and drinks.”

Rex shrugged. “It’s in my bag. Needs a final check. I’ll give it to her later.”

Josh nodded, fishing a small pouch from his pocket. “Here. Your pocket money. Don’t waste it on cigars, got it?”

Rex hesitated. “Did my parents send you with this?”

“Yes. No. Look, just keep it. You’ll have your own money soon enough once you graduate.”

“I don’t need it.”

“Don’t be stubborn. Just take it, okay? Come on, I’ll find you something productive to do.”

Rex lingered at the rail, his face clouded with something deeper. Josh caught the look and softened.

“Hey... What’s on your mind, kid?”

“Stuff.”

“What kind of stuff?”

“Nothing you’d get. Just leave me alone.”

Josh sighed and joined him, leaning against the rail. “You know I’m just trying to help, right?”

Rex turned halfway, scanning his uncle with narrowed eyes. “You? Help me? You barely move when you visit home. All you do is sit around playing the games I’ve saved for later. Then you finish them before I even get a chance. And you keep ordering me around—‘buy this, buy that.’ You’re lazy.”

Josh blinked. “Whoa, now—hey! I’m not lazy! I have responsibilities you can’t even imagine yet. Watch your mouth, or I’ll call you out in front of the council.”

Rex smirked. “Sure, go ahead.”

“Oh? Is that a challenge? You feeling bold now that you’re the treasurer, huh?”

“What’s there to be bold about? I didn’t even want this position. They could’ve picked anyone else.”

“Kid, you’re wasting your potential. Handling money isn’t easy. You’ve got a skill for it, and it matters. Be proud of that.”

Rex stared back out at the sea silently.

Josh gave him a smug grin. “See? You know I’m right.”

Eventually, the two headed toward Josh’s cabin. I let out a sigh and returned to mine.

It had been nearly forty-five minutes since we departed from Hagnaya port, and we were almost halfway to Bantayan Island.

"A little more time, girl. Just a little more," I murmured under my breath, excitement stirring inside me.

But the weather shifted. It became oddly heavy as if determined to dampen my mood.

"Oh, not today," I sighed, brushing it off.

I strolled back toward the cabin, trailing my fingers along the railings when my stomach suddenly dropped. The deck lurched beneath me as the vessel rocked listlessly, a sickening roll that made my balance falter.

The waves had turned.

What began as a gentle sway escalated into something far more threatening. The barge rocked harder—port to starboard—while passengers exchanged uneasy glances. Gloomy clouds thickened above, and then the rain came, heavy and unforgiving, drenching the deck in moments. Cold wind, a furious gust that stung my skin, howled through the open spaces.

Finlay had just endured a stern scolding from teacher Mary when I saw him slip back onto the rain-soaked deck—again. He was fixated on a seagull perched near the rear railings, its wings half-spread as if mocking him.

I pushed through the thickening crowd, heart pounding.

But I was too late.

He sprinted toward the bird, his small frame reckless against the wind.

Chevonne, standing nearby, was wiping her eyes after a teary phone call. She dropped her phone with a gasp, spotting Finlay just as he lunged. She tried to grab him, but his momentum was unstoppable—like a runaway bullet train.

The seagull flapped its wings wide and soared off just as Finlay reached for it.

He lost his balance.

His body pitched forward, arms flailing as his feet slipped from the rain-slicked deck.

Chevonne lunged, managing to catch a handful of his uniform.

But he was heavier than she could hold.

"Help!" Finlay screamed, his upper body dangling over the edge. His weight pulled Chevonne forward, the strain showing in her trembling grip. The barge rocked harder, rain blinding them both as waves crashed against the hull.

They slipped.

I screamed.

Josh, who had just finished speaking with Rex, caught the sound. I barely managed to point toward the railings before he was already moving.

His face hardened.

He knew exactly what he had to do.

Josh dove overboard.

The rain blurred everything as I blinked rapidly, trying to track him. Then, for just a moment, the air around the ship seemed to shift; there was a strange green mist curling along the deck.

Then, I saw everything from above. I was dumbfounded as I found myself flying some meters above.

I saw Josh hit the water face-first. The impact stunned him, but he surfaced, gasping and blinking against the stinging rain. Murky water surrounded him, visibility next to nothing. He dove under, searching, the storm's fury pressing in on all sides.

Then, something fell from the barge.

It was a heavy object.

It struck his head.

*****

I jolted awake, my heart racing.

What just happened?

The sea was trembling.

The barge’s sirens wailed, the captain’s voice crackling through the overhead speakers.

"This is Captain Rudwick of the Kulbahinam Barge Group of Companies speaking. We are currently experiencing a seaquake. I repeat, a seaquake!"

Panic rippled through the passengers.

Teacher Mary, usually composed, was now shouting over the rising chaos. "Stay calm! Everyone, return to your cabins, beds, or chairs! Please! Stay off the walkways!"

Luggage toppled. Furniture slid across the tilting floor, some of it shattering.

The crew scrambled to control the crowd, but the chaos was overwhelming. With around sixty passengers on board, panic spread faster than the crew could contain. Voices clashed—shouts, sobs, the screech of shifting furniture—melding into a cacophony of fear.

The barge lurched violently, each tilt more jarring than the last, as if the sea itself were trying to wrench us from its surface. Rain lashed against the metal hull, the wind howling like a living thing.

Then, without warning, the air changed.

A strange green smog began to curl across the deck, seeping in from nowhere. It thickened, clinging to the railings, distorting the outlines of people around me. Visibility shrank until I could barely see a meter ahead.

The green mist—thick, unnatural—was the same eerie glow I noticed earlier.

But no one else seemed to react. It was as if I was the only one who could see it. It thickened across the deck, curling around the railings, dimming the light.

Why was I the only one who could see it?

The student council huddled together, praying. Rex, however, wasn't among them. He was tearing through the crowd, searching for Josh.

Ritchelle and Alyssa were frantically trying to contact anyone who could help when, without warning, the quake and storm ceased. The barge stilled. The eerie green mist thinned, then it vanished as suddenly as it had appeared.

Silence fell—heavy, unnatural.

A cold knot twisted in my stomach. It felt wrong. It was like the hush before a storm’s return.

The overhead speakers crackled back to life.

"Everyone, please, calm down. The weather and seaquake have completely ceased. My crew is assessing the damage, and in just a minute, we’ll be ready to restart the engines. Please, return to your cabins, beds, or chairs and avoid any actions that might cause panic. As much as possible, remain calm and cooperative. Follow the guidelines in dea—"

The barge jolted violently. There was a sickening lurch.

This time, it was worse.

The entire vessel convulsed with such force that we weren’t just thrown off balance—we were lifted. My stomach flipped as I felt the ground vanish beneath me. People screamed.

I hit the metal roof hard. Pain exploded through my skull as I collapsed back to the floor.

The world blurred.

It was a vertical earthquake, or a seaquake—whatever it was.