Rise of The Unseen

At the Stadium

Amidst the growing chaos, the family pressed forward, their faces etched with worry, each step bringing them closer to the bustling heart of a crowded place, a makeshift haven amidst the uncertainty that had enveloped their world.

As they approached, the cacophony of voices, the shuffling of feet, and the distant wails of sirens filled the air. The once ordinary gathering spot had transformed into a refuge of sorts, a place where people from all walks of life had converged, seeking safety, answers, and a glimmer of hope in the face of a rapidly deteriorating situation.

The family's footsteps echoed through the bustling scene, their concern evident in their expressions, eyes darting around in search of a familiar face or any sign of reassurance. The sheer number of individuals gathered here was both overwhelming and comforting, a stark reminder that they were not alone in this dire moment.

Marta's dad clutched Raphael while her mother was holding little Alejandro while gripping onto Raphael's other arm tightly, and Marta was slightly ahead of them, trying to push people out of the way so her family could pass, her protective instincts on high alert. The family navigated through the sea of people, passing groups huddled together, sharing whispered conversations, exchanging information, and offering solace to one another. Fear and uncertainty were etched on many faces, but there was also a sense of unity, a shared understanding that they were all in this together.

The atmosphere was charged with tension, but amidst the crowd, there were pockets of compassion. Strangers helping strangers, offering water, sharing a kind word, or simply lending a reassuring touch on the shoulder. It was a reminder that even in the face of adversity, humanity's capacity for empathy and solidarity remained strong, but everyone knew this wouldn't remain like this for long.

The center of this gathering was a large stadium, its gates wide open, welcoming the influx of people seeking refuge. The worried family joined the line, waiting patiently as they inched closer to the entrance. The atmosphere within the stadium was a blend of organized chaos, with officials and volunteers doing their best to manage the influx of individuals seeking shelter and information.

A mix of relief and trepidation washed over them as they could see the massive space, typically the backdrop for cheers and applause, now echoed with whispers and hushed conversations. Rows of people had taken refuge here, their makeshift living quarters marked by blankets, bags, and a few cherished belongings.

Throughout the stadium, there were medical teams attending to those in need, volunteers distributing supplies, and makeshift stations offering information and updates. It was a hive of activity, but within the busyness, a sense of order emerged, a testament to human resilience and the ability to adapt in the face of adversity.

The family moved slowly through the line at the entrance of the crowded stadium, a mix of anxiety and anticipation hanging in the air. It was clear that the situation was dire, and they were seeking refuge within the stadium's confines. The parents held their children close, the weight of responsibility heavy on their shoulders.

As the family approached the gate, a uniformed guard stood there, maintaining order and checking those who sought entry. He looked stern, his face betraying the gravity of the situation. Marta followed closely behind her parents, her worry mirroring that of her family.

When it was their turn, the guard glanced at the parents. "Let me see some ID," he requested. Her parents gave the guard their ID's, and the young boys' ID's as well. The guard then checked and nodded, gesturing for them to move forward. However, as Marta stepped forward, the guard held out a hand, signaling her to stop. "ID," he demanded. Her parents turned, concern etching lines on their faces.

The guard, whose name was Harry Miller, took forever to check her ID. "Wait," the guard said firmly, addressing the parents, completely ignoring her. "I'm afraid she cannot enter. Only people under 17 are allowed in at the moment. We need to limit the number of people inside. I'm sorry, but your daughter can't come in."