"My husband's having an affair with a treeman," said a plain-looking woman in her twenties, her tone as dry and casual as if she were discussing the weather.
Across from her, her best friend's thick eyebrows shot up toward her hairline. Besides them, a man named Jason paused mid-bite of his kebab, his attention clearly snagged by the remark. It wasn't unusual for strangers to sit with each other at the cramped tables of Cancip Street's night market.
Under a flapping marquee, neon lights stuttered and danced across faces, casting them in alien hues. The air pulsed with chaotic pop music, tangled with the sizzling sounds of grills and the pungent aroma of barbecued monster meat and charred vegetables.
Food stalls stretched along the street like a living organism, glowing and shifting. People milled about in bright clusters—clubbing, shopping, eating, or maybe just escaping something. It was hard to tell.
Her friend leaned closer, lowering her voice. "Wait… isn't your husband completely against interspecies relationships?"
The plain woman sighed, taking three shots in a row. She slammed her head on the table, looking out to the streets where loving couples happened to pass by.
"I thought so too… I thought he wanted to try something new, you know, spice up the bedroom," she sat up straight, grabbing her best friends hand. She looked into her eyes deeply. "Katie… I found… I found.."
She took a deep breath.
Her best friend patted her best friends hand. "It's okay, you don't have to tell me, Louie."
"I found leaves in his butt!" She half-shouted, grabbing her drink to chug it down.
Jason chocked on his bottle, causing the pair to look at him, before ignoring him.
Louie slammed her glass down, before standing up in anger. "I'm going to find him right now! I'm gonna snip off his dick!"
Her best friend shot to her feet, gripping her shoulders. "Louie—"
The world froze.
Jason blinked. His eyes watered as a flash of white light seared across his vision. He squeezed them shut, lids glowing red behind the blaze.
Goddamn it. Another reporter?
He whipped his head to the side, already raising his arms in an X. "NO PHOTOS!"
"Jason," someone whispered.
He clenched his eyes tighter. "No photos."
"Jason Yoon."
His head snapped toward the voice, eyes cracking open as he barked, "I told you—!"
But the words died in his throat.
A glowing figure sat across from him-no camera, no phone. Just light. A soft outline of a person pulsing faintly against the frozen world. The two girls - Louie and her friend - were suspended mid-motion, their features blurred like a paused video frame. All around them, the crowd and street vendors hung in place, soundless and still.
"Jason Yoon," the figure said again.
Jason squinted at the light. "Shit… is this it? Am I dying?"
The figure raised one shimmering hand and snapped.
A jolt hit Jason's brain like a cold slap, clearing the haze. His breath caught, words sticking to the roof of his mouth.
"You're drunk," the figure said flatly. "I need your help, Jason Yoon."
"You… need me?" His voice cracked on the last word.
The glowing figure nodded solemnly. "Yes. Your help."
Jason glanced around again.
None of it made sense. But his feet weren't allowing him to mov and his heart was pounding too loud to ignore. Maybe he was dreaming. Maybe he was hallucinating. Either way, he decided to go with it - for now.
There was no way the figure in front of him was real.
"Your children, Jason Yoon," it rasped, voice like static and wind. "They're trying to destroy the world."
Jason's mouth twitched. "Yeah, that's... not possible."
The figure tilted its head. "Pardon?"
He let out a short, incredulous laugh. "I don't have a girlfriend. Never have."
Silence.
"I'm a-" he hesitated, then cleared his throat, cheeks flushing. "A pure virgin."
He looked away, wishing he could rewind the last ten seconds of his life. Had he really just admitted that out loud?
The figure chuckled, the sound dry and distant. "Well, that may be true… for now."
Jason's head snapped back. "Hey-"
"But it won't be in the future," it interrupted smoothly, drumming glowing fingers against the table. "Your children will come. And they will burn the world down. We've tried everything to stop them, Jason Yoon. Every timeline. Every strategy. Nothing works."
Jason's eye twitched. "What does that have to do with me?"
"You," the figure said, leaning forward slightly, "are the only variable we don't understand. You're… missing. You don't exist in their timeline."
He narrowed his eyes. "Then how the hell did I father them?"
The figure shrugged. "A question that even we can't answer."
"We?" Jason asked, his voice dropping.
The figure lifted a hand and pointed skyward. "The gods."
Jason blinked once. "I'm sorry - what?"
"The gods," the figure voice, affirmed. "You will help us, Jason Yoon."
"I don't agree," Jason spat.
Fuck, he had even finished his dinner.
"You have no choice," the figure spoke, snapping its fingers.
And the world became bright.