The Balintataw Oracle

A Dangerous Confrontation

Kleng's phone buzzed relentlessly as notifications from her latest post flooded in. After her meeting with Miguel, she had poured her heart into her message—a desperate, urgent plea for action that included photographic evidence of the bridge's compromised structure. The response was a mix of disbelief, concern, and anger. Some people were alarmed, sharing her post widely, while others dismissed it as fear-mongering.

But Kleng wasn't deterred. She knew the stakes were higher than anyone realized. The visions had shown her the terrible consequences of inaction, and with each passing day, the ticking clock loomed larger in her mind. The bridge wasn't just a piece of infrastructure; it was a thread woven into the lives of everyone who crossed it, and that thread was fraying fast.

Determined to make a real impact, Kleng and Miguel decided to take their concerns directly to the people responsible. They arranged a meeting with the local authorities, bringing with them a portfolio of evidence, including Miguel's photos, detailed reports of the cracks, and Kleng's haunting descriptions of her visions. But as they sat in the cold, sterile conference room of the city engineer's office, it became clear that their words were falling on deaf ears.

The head engineer, a stern man with graying hair and a dismissive expression, flipped through the documents with barely concealed disinterest. He glanced up at Kleng and Miguel, his eyes cold and skeptical. "These pictures don't prove anything other than standard wear and tear," he said, his tone dripping with condescension. "We have regular inspections. If there was an actual threat, we'd know about it."

Miguel clenched his fists, struggling to keep his composure. "I work on that bridge every day. I see the cracks getting worse. This isn't just wear and tear—it's dangerous."

The engineer waved a hand dismissively. "Look, I appreciate your concern, but we've got protocols. You're not an expert, and this... dream stuff—" he glanced at Kleng, barely hiding his smirk, "—doesn't hold up as evidence in the real world."

Kleng felt her blood boil. She had expected skepticism, but the outright dismissal was infuriating. "This isn't just about dreams. It's about people's lives. If you ignore this and something happens, their blood will be on your hands."

The engineer leaned back in his chair, unimpressed. "We deal in facts, not superstition. Unless you have something concrete—an official structural report, for example—there's nothing we can do."

Kleng's heart sank. She had hoped that presenting Miguel's firsthand account would be enough, but the bureaucratic walls were higher than she had anticipated. The meeting ended with nothing more than empty reassurances and vague promises to "look into it."

As Kleng and Miguel walked out of the building, the weight of failure hung over them like a dark cloud. "I knew this wouldn't be easy, but I didn't think they'd ignore us completely," Miguel muttered, kicking a loose piece of gravel on the sidewalk.

Kleng placed a hand on his shoulder, trying to muster some optimism. "They're scared to admit there's a problem. It's easier to pretend everything's fine than to face the truth. But we can't give up. There has to be another way."

Later that evening, Kleng returned to her shop, frustration gnawing at her. She had faced doubters before, but this was different. This was life or death. She glanced at her Tarot deck, feeling the pull of The Balintataw calling her back. Maybe there was something she had missed—some crucial detail hidden in the shadows. She decided to enter the dream realm once more, hoping to find answers.

The transition was swift this time, as if The Balintataw itself were eager to welcome her back. Kleng found herself standing at the foot of the bridge, but it was unlike any vision she had seen before. The sky above was a deep, unnatural red, and the air buzzed with tension. The bridge loomed ahead, cracked and broken, teetering on the edge of collapse. In the distance, shadowy figures moved aimlessly, their forms flickering like dying embers.

Kleng walked closer, her footsteps echoing on the crumbling pavement. She could hear faint whispers—the voices of those who would suffer if the vision became reality. She spotted a man standing near the bridge's edge; his back turned to her. He was tall, wearing a dark coat that billowed in the phantom wind of the realm.

"Who are you? Kleng called out, but the man didn't respond. She moved closer, feeling a strange familiarity with the figure. As she reached out, the man turned, and Kleng recoiled in shock. It was Miguel, but his eyes were hollow, devoid of life. He was just a shadow, a representation of the grim fate that awaited.

Miguel's shadow spoke, its voice a distorted echo of his real-world counterpart. "They won't listen until it's too late. We're just noise in a sea of indifference."

Kleng stepped back, heart pounding. This wasn't just a vision—it was a warning of what would happen if she failed. The Balintataw was showing her that the confrontation with authority was just the beginning. She needed to find a way to make her voice impossible to ignore.

She turned away from Miguel's shadow, eyes scanning the surreal landscape for clues. The bridge was surrounded by symbols—glyphs and runes that glowed faintly in the dim light. They were the same symbols she had seen in the library—cryptic messages that hinted at a deeper truth. One symbol stood out among the rest: a spiral intertwined with jagged lines, pulsing with dangerous energy. Kleng realized that it represented the fragile balance between action and inaction, a precarious tipping point that could determine the future.

With a surge of determination, Kleng faced the bridge, her voice rising above the cacophony of whispers. "I will make them see. I won't let this happen."

As the vision began to fade, the Balintataw whispered its final message: The path is perilous, but the power lies within you.

Kleng woke in her shop, drenched in sweat but more resolved than ever. She knew what she had to do—she needed to be louder, bolder, and more relentless. The confrontation with the authorities had been a setback, but it was not the end. Kleng would not rest until the bridge was safe, even if it meant risking everything.

She picked up her phone and started drafting a plan. This wasn't just about warnings anymore; it was about taking action. Kleng was done being ignored. The shadows and symbols had spoken, and now it was her turn to make the world listen.