Thomas woke up sweating at his desk.
"Oh… it was just a dream… again," he muttered, rubbing his face. He was still at work, still in the same chair, the faint hum of the office around him.
"What a weird dream. The end of the world?!" He sat up straighter, glancing around as if to confirm reality.
A TV in the corner was still on, the same channel they always left running during lunch.
"Breaking news on HKM News. It is official. Congress has passed a resolution to impeach the Vice President. Unfortunately, the Vice President is nowhere to be found, so we cannot get his opinion regarding this."
"That's right, partner. It seems Congress has found sufficient evidence that the Vice President has ties to the Red Hands, a group recently declared a terrorist organization by the President."
Thomas froze for a second. This wasn't the same broadcast he had heard in his dream. In that one, the impeachment had already passed days ago, and the world was about to be hit by meteors. This was different. Earlier.
He stood abruptly and hurried for the stairs, heading straight for the 15th-floor cafeteria.
"Bryan! Bryan!" Thomas shouted as he pushed open the fire exit door.
Everyone in the room turned to look at him. Bryan, standing near the counter, raised his hand in a small, awkward wave.
Thomas ran to him and threw an arm over his shoulder.
"Bryan, it happened again…" he whispered, though the silence in the room carried his words to everyone.
Bryan narrowed his eyes but, noticing the stares, guided Thomas toward the stairs for a more private conversation.
"Don't tell me it's that again?" Bryan asked.
"Yes. My bangungot," Thomas said, his voice low but certain.
Bangungot. That's what Thomas and Bryan called it.
Technically, it was more like a premonition, a vision through dreams. But if Thomas stayed in the dream too long or looked too far ahead, it could kill him. Death while dreaming. That was bangungot.
"Category?" Bryan asked, leaning forward.
This wasn't the first time Thomas had one. Over time, they had built their own system to gauge how dangerous each dream was and how hard it would be to prevent.
If the dream was just about Thomas getting into a car accident, that was Category C, easy to avoid, just don't drive that day. If it involved someone else, it became Category B. If more than two people were in danger, that was Category A. If the dream showed the deaths of many people, they called it Category S.
Thomas was quiet for a moment, his brow furrowed.
"SSS," he finally said.
Bryan blinked. "What? Thomas Aike, we don't even have an SSS category. It's just A, B, C, and S." He started to say more, then stopped, his voice catching.
"…Is this a terrorist attack? Mass shooting?" Bryan's voice was tight, as if saying the words out loud might make them real.
"Worse," Thomas said flatly.
Bryan's throat bobbed as he swallowed. "Worse?" His mind raced for possibilities, but each one felt more impossible than the last. He didn't want to imagine what could be worse.
"Yes. It's the end of the world," Thomas said.
Bryan gave a weak laugh that died almost instantly. "What, like nuclear war?" His voice was thin, shaky.
"No. A meteor shower," Thomas answered.
Bryan's eyes widened. He thought of the stories about the dinosaurs, about how they were wiped out. His mind twisted the thought into a single question. Are humans next?
His chest tightened. He took a slow breath, but it didn't steady him. His gaze darted to the window as if expecting to already see fire in the sky.
"Should we… tell the government?" Bryan asked, his voice rising slightly, as if clinging to the idea that someone else could handle it.
"No. Even Eagle and Bear country can't do anything about it," Thomas said.
Bryan's shoulders slumped. "Then what the hell are we supposed to do?" There was no hiding the hopelessness in his tone now.
"Survive," Thomas said after a long pause.
Bryan stared at him, processing the word. His expression was blank at first, then his brow furrowed as if he wasn't sure he had heard right. Slowly, a spark lit in his eyes.
"Survive…" he repeated under his breath, as if testing the idea. He looked back at Thomas, straighter now, more focused. "Right. We don't need to save the whole world. We just need to make sure we're still here after it's over."
Some of the color returned to his face, his earlier panic replaced with a fragile kind of resolve.
Thomas gave a single nod, the corner of his mouth lifting just slightly.
"So… let's plan?" Bryan asked, his voice steadier than before.
Bryan remembered the first time they tried something like this. Back when Thomas had his very first Category S bangungot. They were in middle school.
Bryan had transferred in halfway through first year. He hated transferring. It happened every two or three years because of his parents' business. By that point, he had been to four different schools since elementary.
As a transferee, he didn't bother making close friends. It wasn't shyness, just practicality. People in his life never stuck around, except for his parents, so why get attached? He brought his own lunch, ate alone in the classroom, and walked home alone. That was his routine for several days at the new school.
Until one afternoon.
Bryan had just finished eating and was about to clear his desk when a big shadow fell over him. He looked up to see Thomas Aike, the largest kid in their class. How big? Six foot four, with a wide frame, soft belly, and the kind of presence that made him impossible to miss.
"You have to help me!" Thomas blurted.
"I have to what?" Bryan stared at him, confused. Sure, he knew who Thomas was, everyone did, but they had never spoken. Bryan sat in the second row near the front, while Thomas claimed a seat in the very back. He could not recall a single interaction between them. And now here this giant was, telling him to help with something.
"What do you need?" Bryan asked cautiously, already preparing to refuse.
"We're all gonna die," Thomas said, eyes wide.
"I'm sorry, I cannot… Wait… what did you just say?" Bryan stopped mid-sentence, leaning closer to make sure he hadn't misheard.
"I said, we are all going to die," Thomas replied, dead serious.
"During our field trip there will be a landslide. Our bus will fall off a cliff," Thomas continued.
Bryan blinked at him. "Look, man, we don't even have a field trip. I saw you sleeping earlier after lunch. Maybe you just dreamed it. It's not true, so I can't help you."
"But…" Thomas opened his mouth to explain more, then shut it again, searching for the right words and failing.
Right then, their classmates poured back into the room from lunch, filling the air with chatter. Thomas slumped back to his seat at the rear, shaking his head and muttering under his breath.
Bryan watched him go, raising an eyebrow. Does he really believe that?
Several minutes later, their homeroom teacher walked in.
"I'm sorry I'm late," she said.
"Booooo!" the class answered in unison. In their defense, when students were late, they got scolded.
"I know, I know… but hear me out. I have good news for you!" the teacher said with a smile.
She paused for effect. "I was late because I was in a meeting with the other teachers and the principal. Guess what?"
The room quieted, curiosity winning over mock annoyance.
"Our school has enough budget for a field trip this year!"
The class erupted into cheers.
"I know it's already the middle of the year," she went on, "and if we delay further, it will affect our end-of-year exams. That's why…" She paused again for suspense.
"We're having the trip next week. Seven days from now!"
Bryan's head snapped toward the back of the room. Thomas did not look happy. He was still shaking his head, eyes fixed on the floor.
No… no way, Bryan thought. Still, there was one detail that could break the prediction.
"Where are we going, teach?" a classmate asked, voicing what Bryan was thinking.
"Oh, to the national museum and the science museum," the teacher said.
Bryan ran the math in his head. Both in the city. No mountains. No mountains means no landslide. Relief started to wash over him.
"And also, we'll be visiting the observatory," the teacher added.
Bryan froze. His relief shattered into a thousand pieces. The observatory was up in the mountains. Mountains meant cliffs. Cliffs meant landslides.
He turned in slow motion toward Thomas.
Thomas had not moved. Same slumped posture. Same head shaking. Same frustrated, far-off stare.
Bryan's stomach sank. Are we doomed?
Wait, wait… there's still a chance he's wrong. Bryan glanced around the room, then leaned toward his seatmate.
"How are we getting there?" he asked, trying to sound casual while secretly nodding to himself.
Yes. This was the right question. For that premonition to be true, everything had to match.
"Don't you know? Of course we're riding a rented van," his seatmate said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.
"Right, right," another classmate chimed in.
"I'll ride with my group. Steve, you go find your group, our van is full!" someone else called from across the room.
Bryan let out a quiet sigh of relief. See? The premonition is wrong. No bus, no landslide, no fiery death.
He glanced back at Thomas. Still the same. Still hunched over, muttering to himself, shaking his head like he was trying to solve a puzzle he couldn't crack.
Don't tell me… Bryan's eyes slid back to the teacher.