THE DOWNFALL

Chapter 1 II : The Sky Lit Up

Jeff gasped awake, heart hammering in his chest. He was drenched in sweat, breathing heavily, staring into the darkness.

It took him a moment to remember where he was. The cave. The barracks. The storm still growling outside. Rain continued to fall endless, cold, and unrelenting.

It was just a dream…

No, a memory.

He wiped his forehead with a shaky hand. The feeling lingered—the warmth of his mother’s hand, the sound of the fighter jets, the truth of her words.

He glanced at the clock.

3:00 AM.

With a quiet sigh, Jeff got out of bed and stepped out of the room to head to the bathroom. As he passed through the lobby, his eyes were drawn to the only small window in the entire base.

The rain was still pouring outside, relentless as ever. Through the blurry glass, he could see trees swaying violently in the wind, branches whipping back and forth under the storm’s fury.

Then he remembered the tamarind tree.

His heart skipped. Without wasting another second, he turned around and rushed to the supply chamber a secure room in the base where they kept tools, repair kits, ropes, and other hard-use materials for maintaining the tunnels.

He grabbed a raincoat and a flashlight.

He made his way to the far rear of the base, to a barely used corridor that ended at a concealed emergency exit. The door could only be opened from the inside it was their last resort, their hidden way out.

As Jeff unlatched it, a voice stopped him.

“Jeff?”

It was Noel.

Noel’s eyes were tired but alert, his brow furrowed as he approached. “Where are you going? Are you out of your mind?”

Jeff didn’t answer.

Noel grabbed his arm, trying to stop him—but Jeff gently pulled free. Seeing the determination in his friend’s eyes, Noel sighed, muttered a curse, and grabbed his own raincoat and flashlight.

Without another word, the two of them quietly cracked open the emergency hatch. It creaked against the wind. They left a narrow gap, wedging a rock between the door and the frame to make sure it wouldn’t shut completely and lock them out.

The cold hit them instantly, soaking them in seconds.

They made their way through the mud and darkness toward the small tamarind tree, its fragile trunk nearly bending in the wind. The rope that secured it had come loose, flapping uselessly to one side. Working together, they fastened it tighter, anchoring it as best they could.

Then, for a moment, they sat beneath its narrow shelter—drenched, quiet, breathing hard.

Noel turned to him.

“Why this tree? What makes it so important to you?”

Jeff stared at the bark, his voice low. “I planted it with my mom. Years ago, when I was a kid. It’s one of the only things left from before.”

They were just about to stand when suddenly—

The entire sky exploded into light.

A red flash deep and violent bathed the clouds above them, painting the world in shades of crimson. It wasn’t lightning. It was something else. A glowing object pierced the thick canopy of clouds, trailing fire like a comet. But it wasn’t falling like a star , it was crashing, ripping through the atmosphere with terrifying force.

They couldn’t see exactly what it was. The storm veiled everything in heavy rain, fog, and smoke. But they felt it , felt the pressure ripple through the air, like the world had gasped.

Then—

BOOOOOM.

A sound tore through the mountains, deep and thunderous. It wasn’t just loud , it was massive. The kind of sound you feel in your bones. The ground trembled faintly beneath them. Birds scattered. The tamarind tree shivered.

They stood there frozen, drenched in red light and rain, their hearts pounding.

Whatever just fell…

It wasn’t from here.

And it wasn’t ordinary.

Morning came.

Jeff and Noel set out early, following the direction where the mysterious object had fallen the night before. It had seemed to descend from the sky at an angle slanting downward toward the plains. They reasoned it must have crashed somewhere beyond the mountain, maybe even near the edge of the forest.

As they walked, their eyes scanned the landscape, alert.

"What do you think it was?" Noel asked, frowning. "Could it have been a meteor?"

"I don’t know either," Jeff replied, determined. "That’s why we need to find out."

They’d been walking for hours down winding paths slick with wet soil, weaving through thick undergrowth and mist. The mountain air was still damp, the storm’s presence lingering in the gray clouds above. But so far, there was nothing—no smoke, no fire, no sign of impact.

Jeff exhaled slowly. His legs were starting to ache.

"Jeff… I don’t think we’re going to find anything," Noel said, his voice tired. "Maybe that thing didn’t even crash. Maybe it just… disappeared."

He paused, then added, "Let’s just go back to the base."

Jeff hesitated, then finally nodded. "Alright. Let’s go back. We’re not getting anywhere like this. We’ll rest for now we still have to climb back up, and the ground’s slippery."

"Good idea," Noel said with relief. "I’ll just go find a spot to take a leak."

He walked off into the trees, leaving Jeff alone on the trail. Jeff found a thick fallen tree nearby and sat on a large branch, wiping sweat from his brow, catching his breath.

Then—

"Uhm… Jeff?" Noel’s voice echoed faintly through the trees.

"What?" Jeff called back.

"Jeff!!"

This time it was a shout sharp, urgent, full of something that made Jeff’s heart leap. He jumped to his feet and ran toward the voice, crashing through the brush.

He found Noel standing still, stiff, eyes locked on something just beyond the ridge.

"Noel, are you okay?" Jeff asked breathlessly.

Noel didn’t answer. He simply raised a trembling hand and pointed.

Jeff followed his gaze and froze.

There it was.

The forest gave way to a wide clearing torn violently open. Dirt was flung everywhere clods of earth scattered and smoldering. Trees lay snapped and broken like matchsticks, their trunks blackened or splintered. A deep, jagged trench carved into the earth stretched forward, ending at the mangled wreck of a fighter jet, half-buried in the soil.

The nose of the jet had crashed straight into the ground, and it had clearly dragged along the forest floor before coming to a halt. One wing was completely torn off and rested far off in the grass, while the other was bent upward at an unnatural angle. Smoke still drifted from the body of the jet, and sparks crackled softly from exposed wiring. Panels had peeled open, metal twisted like paper.

Around it destruction. The ground was scorched. Trees were charred or uprooted. A strange, unnatural heat still lingered in the air, despite the night’s rain.

It didn’t look like it had fallen from the sky.

It looked like it had been shot down.

Jeff stepped closer, eyes wide, breath caught in his chest.