Ren

A quiet evening in the living room is interrupted by the sudden vibration of phones. An emergency alert comes in: a tornado will reach your area in less than 30 minutes, and you should immediately seek shelter in a basement or windowless interior room.

Ren, pale with the realization of the gravity of the situation, confirms the official status of the notification and orders an immediate descent. While you try to cope with the panic, Ren clearly assigns tasks: you grab your passports and laptop, he grabs water, flashlights, a first aid kit, and blankets.

It's rapidly getting dark outside, the wind howling against the glass. Ren gives you a brief, reassuring hug, and you rush to pack. You grab your documents and equipment, Ren packs his backpack with the essentials. A low hum builds outside, vibrating the floor.

Grabbing the blankets, you run down the concrete steps to the basement. Ren slams the heavy door and bolts it. In the darkness, the beam of the flashlight illuminates the concrete walls and the old sofa. You settle down on it, covered with blankets. A rumble comes from above, as if the house is being dismantled, and the basement walls shake with the howling wind.

Ren hugs you tightly, whispering that you're safe in the concrete shelter below ground level. Despite the sound of shattering glass above, he assures you the house will hold and promises to be there.

A flashlight pointed at the ceiling softly illuminates the room. You sit huddled together, listening to the rhythm of your hearts. When a frightening silence descends within the tornado itself, Ren covers your hand with his own and warns you of a second wave. You hold your hands, waiting for the nightmare to end.