The Error has been summoned

5

As they arrived at the park, Anya pointed out their favorite spot. "There used to be a man-made waterfall here," she said, "but it was removed for some reason. It's been a year since we last came."

He didn't voice his reluctance. It wasn't that he wanted to be here; he was simply pressured by Anya and Conny. But deep down, he had no desire to join them.

"Lay out the blanket, Paul," Conny instructed, and he complied without complaint. Conny then placed the two baskets they had brought on the ground.

She took out bread, two types of jams, fresh milk, a small container of sliced fruits, and some meats. So, this is what they do at picnics? Just sitting and eating? What's the point? Why not just eat at a restaurant? Why choose to eat outside when it's sunny?

Anya called him over to sit beside her. He realized he had been standing alone, everyone else already seated and looking at him. They must have thought he was spacing out, which he was.

"What's the point of having a picnic outside the house, especially in this park?" he asked as he took a slice of bread and reached for the knife to get some strawberry jam. "You can eat in a restaurant; why choose to eat outside when it's sunny?"

Anya and Conny looked at him in surprise, while Paul glared at him, as usual. It seemed like he blamed him for everything. That's just how he is.

"You've never been on a picnic?" Anya asked again. He shook his head and bit into his bread. Then, he looked at her. "Why?"

"I don't have a family to eat with. Why would I eat alone? Besides, I didn't have much money back then. I'm too old to go on picnics now," he explained. They didn't say anything and just looked at him. "Come on, I'm not some teenager you should pity. I'm—"

"Stop acting up, kid, and eat," Paul interrupted, grabbing a slice of mango near him. He was right, so he just ate.

"HELP!" They all turned towards the source of the loud scream. In the distance, a woman was running in their direction. Everyone she passed, who were also having picnics, stood up and looked at her. "PLEASE, HELP! MY CHILD IS HURT!"

They stood up to get a better view. That's when he noticed smoke coming from where she had come from. A boy was covered in blood, and then there was a loud explosion.

"Get down!" Paul shouted, pushing the two women sitting on their blanket. "Zion!"

The kid was almost lying on the ground. He could see from where he was sitting that he was coughing blood and crying. Beside him were a man and a woman in a similar state. He thinks they were his parents.

"Zion, help the kid. I'll assist the people outside, okay?!" Paul instructed.

But even in their state, they crawled towards their child and cried as they looked at him. The father tried to stop the blood from flowing from the boy's chest, while the mother wiped the blood from his head, which hardly moved anymore.

"Zion! I told you to help the kid!"

He walked towards them, but he stopped when he got closer and the couple looked at him.

"Please, help our son. Even if it's just him you save, even if you leave us," the woman pleaded. He could hear the faint sound of a bomb, like it could explode anytime. "Please, sir?"

He didn't move from where he stood, just looking at them while they begged for their lives, not for themselves but for their child.

"I TOLD YOU TO HELP THEM! ASSHOLE!" A loud slap brought him back to reality. That's when he realized the family fighting for their lives was right in front of him, while he heard more explosions, screaming, and crying. He looked at Paul, who was carrying the child now.

"You goddamn selfish bastard!"

Zion got back from his deep and old reverie, his heart starts to beat so fast that he can't hear anything aside from that.

The chaotic scene at the park unfolded like a nightmare. Explosions echoed in the distance, and the panicked cries of the injured filled the air. Paul, now cradling the injured child, looked at Zion with a mixture of urgency and frustration.

"Zion, we need to get out of here," Paul urged, his voice strained with worry. "There's something terribly wrong. We have to find safety."

Zion felt a surge of panic. He had never experienced anything like this before. His mind raced with questions, but one stood out: What was happening? As he looked around, he noticed that the once serene park had turned into a scene of chaos and danger.

Anya and Conny, normally composed and collected, looked equally bewildered. They exchanged worried glances, their expressions mirroring Zion's own confusion. The situation was spiraling out of control, and they were all caught in the middle of it.

"Zion, we need to stay calm," Anya said, her voice steady but tinged with concern. "We'll figure this out together. Let's focus on helping these people and finding a safe place."

Conny nodded in agreement, her usually cheerful demeanor replaced by a somber expression. "Anya's right. We can't lose our heads now. We need to stay focused and help however we can."

Amidst the chaos, Zion's thoughts were drawn back to the injured family. The parents were desperately trying to save their child, their faces etched with fear and determination. The child's condition seemed dire, and time was running out.

Without a second thought, Zion rushed to their aid. He knelt beside the family, his mind focused on helping them in any way he could. The urgency of the situation pushed aside his earlier reservations, and he acted on instinct.

"We need to stop the bleeding," Zion said, his voice steady despite the chaos around them. "I'll help you."

The parents, overwhelmed with emotion, nodded in agreement. Together, they worked to stabilize the child's condition as best they could under the circumstances. It was a race against time, but they refused to give up hope.

As they struggled to save the child, Paul's frustration boiled over. "Dammit, Zion, focus! We don't have time for this!" he exclaimed, his voice laced with anger and urgency. "Help them or get out of the way!"

Zion's shock at Paul's outburst was palpable. He had never seen Paul lose his composure like this before. The urgency of the situation was clearly taking its toll on everyone, and tensions were running high.

After what felt like an eternity, the chaos began to subside. Emergency responders arrived at the scene, taking charge of the situation and providing medical assistance to the injured. Anya, Conny, Paul, and Zion made their way home, their minds still reeling from the events at the park.

As they entered the familiar surroundings of their home, the weight of the day's events seemed to hang in the air. Paul, usually the most vocal of the group, was uncharacteristically quiet. Anya and Conny exchanged concerned glances, silently acknowledging the need for some time to process what had just happened.

Zion, too, was lost in his thoughts. The memory of the injured family, the chaos, and the sense of urgency lingered in his mind. He couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to the situation than met the eye. What had caused the explosions? Who was behind it all? These questions gnawed at him, demanding answers that seemed just out of reach.

Later that evening, as they sat in the living room, there was a knock on the door. Zion hesitated for a moment, wondering who it could be at this hour. When he opened the door, he was surprised to see the mother and child they had helped at the park standing on the doorstep.

"Hello," the mother said, her voice filled with gratitude. "I'm sorry to bother you at this late hour, but I wanted to thank you again for what you did for us at the park."

Zion was taken aback by her unexpected visit but quickly invited them inside. Anya and Conny greeted them with warm smiles, offering them seats in the living room. Paul, who had been sitting quietly in a corner, looked up with a surprised expression.

"It's no bother at all," Zion said, trying to hide his surprise. "We're just glad we could help."

The mother nodded, her eyes filled with emotion. "You saved my son's life," she said, her voice trembling slightly. "I don't know what would have happened if you hadn't been there. We are forever grateful to you and your friends."

Anya and Conny nodded in agreement, their expressions reflecting the solemnity of the moment. Paul remained silent, his gaze fixed on the mother and child.

"We wanted to bring you something as a token of our appreciation," the mother continued, reaching into a bag she had brought with her. "It's not much, but it's a small gesture of our gratitude."

She pulled out a basket filled with freshly baked bread, the aroma filling the room with a comforting warmth. "Please, take this as a thank you from our family to yours."

Zion accepted the basket with a grateful smile, thanking the mother profusely. Anya and Conny echoed his thanks, their voices filled with sincerity.

As they talked, the mother's gaze fell on the small, intricately decorated box that Zion had placed on the coffee table. "What's that?" she asked, her curiosity piqued.

Zion hesitated for a moment, unsure of how to explain the significance of the box. "It's... a gift," he said, choosing his words carefully. "A friend gave it to me. I haven't opened it yet."

The mother nodded, understanding evident in her eyes. "Well, whatever it is, I hope it brings you as much joy as your bravery has brought us," she said, her voice filled with warmth.

After a few more moments of conversation, the mother and child bid them goodnight and left, their hearts full of gratitude for the kindness and bravery shown by Zion and his friends.

As Zion watched them walk away, he couldn't help but feel a sense of peace wash over him. The events of the day had been harrowing, but in that moment, he knew that they had made a difference in someone's life.

And as he looked at the small, intricately decorated box in his hands, he couldn't shake the feeling that it held the key to a much larger mystery—one that would lead him to a possible answers and danger.