The noise never stops—it's constant. The silence is coming. The long-awaited silence is welcoming. It's warm. Is it truly cold? Is it that bad to welcome the silence?

  "Every day, every…damn…day" Herald was sick of it; every day, he would clock in on time, and he would work hard to improve himself and those around him, but every day that went by felt like a toll on his soul.

  Herald used to have dreams—every kid has dreams—but like most others, they slowly dwindled into a wisp of their former glory. Now, Herald was just happy to get through another day of work.

  "Happy?" he scoffed. "Not even close."

  Herald finished his work and clocked out. Walking to his car, he saw the half-moon in the dark sky. It was beautiful out here—no worries, no stress, just the evening breeze with the light smell of early spring.

  He was jerked back to reality as a tinge of anger crossed his mind. He was stuck with yet another project today. "Not even going to let me finish the last before piling them on," he thought, rubbing his hand through his hair.

  He felt his backache, yet another reminder of the time he had lost by working hard for others' dreams. Herald got in his old beat-up truck and tried to start it.

  It cranked… cranked, and then started clicking. "Just what I needed, " he said with exasperation. He popped the hood and looked inside. He hated this vehicle, but he needed it. He was saving enough to try to get out of this stupid spiral of work, so he needed to save as much money as possible.

  He sighed in relief as he saw it: one of the battery terminals had just come loose. He grabbed his toolbox from his truck and started tightening it back on. That was when he started feeling dizzy. He grabbed onto his truck, steadying himself.

  These dizzy spells had been coming and going for a few days now; truthfully, a small part of him worried about them. Then again, Herald had pushed through worse before; it's just how the world is.

  The dizziness started worsening, and he felt his stomach spin; he leaned down on the ground, heaving up a large amount of partially digested food. But it didn't stop there. He kept on puking till it felt like he would suffocate due to lack of oxygen.

  The dizziness was gone. He looked down at his mess—an impressive amount. Then he thought, "I hadn't even eaten today. This can not be a good sign." He sighed, returned to his car, and drove to the local hospital.

  The hospital was packed. Cars were parked in every spot available, even behind the parked ones. "At ten thirty at night?" he wondered. What was going on?" He parked on the road and started his long walk to the entrance.

  Another wave of dizziness hit. This time, Herald felt a sharp pain behind his eyes. He doubled over in pain, clutching at his face. It felt like someone had sprayed pepper spray on each.

  Closing his eyes, the dizziness made him feel like he was spinning, unsure of what way was up and down; he felt sweat on his brow as he writhed in agony.

  Then, it was gone just as quickly as it had come over him; he opened his eyes and lay on his back looking at the sky; his arms hurt. He looked at them and saw cuts up and down them. "Did I do that?" he asked dumbfounded.

  Herald slowly pushed himself to his feet, feeling aches from fresh cuts and bruises all over his body, and continued walking toward the hospital.

  When he reached the doors, he was met with a sobering sight. Not only was the parking lot full, but so was the inside. The sliding doors opened to let him in, but he froze, looking at the scene. People lined almost every inch of the floor, lying in makeshift beds with scared-looking expressions that he was sure mirrored his own.

  Walking cautiously around everyone, Herald walked up to the front desk, where a frantic-looking young girl was digging around. "Busy night, " he said, trying to gain her attention.

  The girl didn't look up; instead, she quickly said, "If your symptoms are headache and/or dizziness, please wait out front."

  Herald turned, looking at the hundreds of people waiting just from a glance, and felt his heart drop. "Do you know what is happening?"

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  She froze, and then a tiny laugh started escaping her mouth. This laugh slowly devolved into a maniacal laugh, with tears streaming from her eyes.

  "Everyone's probably dying! Is that what you want to hear? " she laughed, breathing between each one. I have no idea what's happening; I just wanted to come to work and go home… but but but," she stammered, looking at him intensely and quieting down from her laughter.

  "But do you know what the best part is?"

  Herald shook his head.

  A manic smile stretched her face. "I'm starting to feel dizzy too! We are all going to die together."

  Herald took a step back as she started laughing again. He looked around at the people-covered floor and said, "This city is big, but this has to be a noticeable percentage. Maybe there is something on the news about it."

  He pulled out his phone, unlocked it, and swiped away his work email. He opened up a new tab and typed in feeling dizzy outbreak. He breathed in sharply. Three articles came up, all of them from the last thirty minutes. The first read. (businesses shut down early today.) The next (World Wide outbreak live updates)

  He clicked on that one and scrolled past the filler to the part explaining why, it read: " An estimated five percent of the world has been affected so far, and researchers are currently investigating the cause and severity."

  Herald closed his phone, put it back in his pocket, and walked out. He knew that if that many people were affected and the situation ended up being dire, he would not get treatment in time.

  He breathed in the fresh air and lay on a patch of grass outside. "What a time to be alive." He said.

  Herald felt it before he saw it. A wave of energy passed over him, almost like a warm breeze. He sat up, looking in the direction it came from. An orange glow came from just to his left, slightly down a hillside.

  Pushing up, he walked over to the glow, feeling a warmness radiate from it that increased in intensity as he got closer.

  A small orange orb was sitting halfway into the ground. It was the size of a baseball but was matte orange. Now, only a foot away, Herald could feel a steady heat coming from the orb, almost like a piece of charred wood.

  He crouched next to it. The orb wasn't too bright to look at—it was more like a bright phone screen. Reaching out, he tried to see how hot it was. As he inched his hand closer, it reached the temperature of a hot shower, almost uncomfortable but just at the precipice.

  He quickly tapped it as if touching a hot stove; the orb left his hand with a buzzing sensation, almost like electricity after touching it, but less of a tingle and more of a twitchy feeling.

  He tapped it again, getting the same feedback, and then reached out, grabbing it with his palm.

  This time, his reaction was a lot more like electricity. His hand involuntarily gripped the ball with all its might. He looked down, seeing his muscles bulge and his veins pop. He quickly hit the orb with his other hand, trying to dislodge it, but it wouldn't budge.

  Herald felt his hand start to ache from the pressure and noticed the orb begin to deform. He leaned down, rubbing his hand against the ground to release some of the orb's energy, but nothing happened.

  All at once, Herald felt the release from his hand. It was not from letting the orb go, however; the orb had shattered, and his hand had made a fist.

  Blood ran down his hand as orange shards of the orb stuck through his palm. The pressure in his fist was gone, now replaced with a pulsing ache.

  Herald watched his hand pool with blood and slowly run over. He looked back toward the hospital and started going up the hill.

  Holding his hand above his head to slow the bleeding, he felt the blood flow down his arm. Then the pain hit, and an electric burning sensation came from his hand, the hot and cold feeling flowing over him in waves.

  As his hand flared, Herald smelled burnt flesh. He doubled over and looked at his hand. The orange shards were still in it and starting to bubble the skin around them.

  Then he started feeling the bruises and cuts he had gotten earlier start to boil. His whole body flared with pain as his injuries popped over and over.

  His mind was overflowing with stress and pain, and he saw the corners of his vision growing dark and inviting the silence.

  Heat. Herald felt a warm heat on his back. He opened his eyes to a face full of grass. He leaned up, seeing the bright light of the sun illuminating his position almost up the hill. Confused, he looked around momentarily, not understanding why he was there.

  Then, all at once, his memories hit him, and he looked at his offending hand. It was okay—there were no injuries, no pain. He clenched and unclenched his fist a few times to test it, but it seemed fine.

  "How long was I out?" he asked, getting up and examining himself. He had no bruises or cuts. He walked up the rest of the hill. The parking lot was only half full, now a more reasonable amount.

  "What happened? Did the dizziness make me blackout?" he asked himself. He walked back into the hospital to a much more usual environment. A different person was at the front desk, and they smiled as he walked up, saying, "Good morning. Is this about dizziness or vomiting?"

  He felt relieved that he hadn't imagined it and nodded.

  She pulled out a paper and a pen and said, "The government mandated we send everyone who had those symptoms away today. We are still trying to find a solution, but everyone's symptoms are gone, so we aren't worried about it now."

  She placed the paper and pen on the counter before him and said, "If you want, you can sign this waiver stating that you had this issue, and we can contact you if there are further developments."

  Herald just stared at her, nonplussed. "So it's not a problem?"

  She shook her head. "It could be, but we don't know yet."

  Herald shook his head and walked out. There was no way he was signing anything for a sickness that had just disappeared, especially with anyone who said it had.

  He looked around for his truck and sighed as he saw it at the far side of the parking lot. "Back to it, I guess."