In the vast silence of his altered world, Shawn lay under the clear dome that had become both his sanctuary and his prison. Two days had passed since his transformation began, two days of isolation and dwindling hope. The world outside his bin had become a distant, unreachable expanse, and his once-familiar room now seemed like an alien landscape.

The sun's journey across the sky, visible through the distant window, marked the passage of time in a world that had become eerily still. Shawn's phone, his only link to the outside world, lay lifeless, its battery drained long ago. The absence of any response to his S.O.S. message gnawed at him, seeding doubts and fears in his mind.

The supplies he had gathered—water and food—were running dangerously low. He had been careful to ration them, but the relentless march of time made their depletion inevitable. The bin, once a haven, now felt like a transparent coffin, sealing him away from a world that had moved on without him.

As despair settled in, Shawn's thoughts turned dark. He wondered if his message had ever been received, if Dayva and Lola even knew of his plight. The isolation, the silence, the slow but inexorable shrinking—it all converged into a suffocating sense of hopelessness.

In a moment of profound resignation, Shawn lay down and drew his knees to his chest. The enormity of his situation, the overwhelming sense of abandonment and vulnerability, weighed heavily on him. He found himself contemplating the end, the quiet, lonely demise that seemed to await him in this miniature prison.

Melancholy enveloped him, a deep, aching sadness that stemmed not just from his physical predicament but also from the sense of being forgotten, left behind in a world that was now too large, too indifferent. The stark reality that this might be the end of his journey, this small, clear bin his final resting place, was a thought too heavy to bear.

In the dimming light of the room, as shadows lengthened and merged into the darkness of night, Shawn lay motionless, his mind adrift in a sea of somber reflections. He pondered over the choices he had made, the paths he had walked, and the ironic twist of fate that had brought him to this solitary end.

Dayva and Lola, faced with the harrowing realization of Shawn's dire situation, understood that every second mattered. With a sense of urgency that bordered on panic, they quickly strategized the fastest way to reach their friend. Time was slipping away, and with each passing moment, Shawn's predicament grew more perilous.

In a decisive move, they agreed to split up, doubling their chances of reaching Shawn quickly. Dayva, with a grim determination set upon her face, started the car and began the long drive back. She pushed the limits of speed, her mind focused singularly on the mission to save Shawn. The road stretched out before her, each mile a reminder of the precious time lost during their retreat.

Meanwhile, Lola, driven by the same sense of desperate urgency, rushed to the nearest airport. She navigated through the airport crowds with a singular focus, securing a seat on the first available flight. The flight, though quicker than the drive, felt agonizingly slow to Lola, each minute in the air a minute too long.

Upon landing, Lola quickly rented a car and continued her journey, pushing the vehicle to its limits. Her heart raced with anxiety and fear, thoughts of Shawn trapped in his minuscule state consuming her mind. The dual approach, while logistically complex, was their best bet at reaching Shawn as quickly as humanly possible.

As Dayva and Lola converged on Shawn's location from different paths, their shared resolve and desperation united them in spirit. They both understood the gravity of the situation, the life of their dear friend hanging in the balance.

Throughout their respective journeys, their minds were haunted by the same questions: Would they make it in time? What condition would they find Shawn in? The unknowns multiplied, adding weight to their already heavy hearts.

Lola's arrival at Shawn's house was a moment charged with both relief and heightened anxiety. Her heart pounded as she approached the door, only to be met with an unexpected obstacle—the code to the door lock, once familiar, now refused her entry. Frantically, she tried various combinations, hoping for a memory to resurface, but to no avail. The lock remained unyielding, a barrier between her and her imperiled friend.

As Lola's panic escalated, she circled the house, searching for another way in. Her eyes desperately scanned the windows until she caught a glimpse of Shawn's form, small and motionless inside the clear bin. The sight struck her with a wave of dread, fueling her urgency to a fever pitch.

Only 15 minutes had passed in this state of frantic helplessness when Dayva's car appeared, speeding up the road and coming to a screeching halt. Dayva, driven by the same fear and determination, leaped out of the car, her eyes immediately meeting Lola's.

Lola, overwhelmed by emotion and the terrifying sight of Shawn lying still, ran to and collapsed into Dayva's arms, crying out, "I can't get the door open." Her voice was a mix of despair and pleading, conveying the critical nature of their situation.

Without hesitation, Dayva kissed Lola briefly, a gesture of solidarity and comfort in the face of their shared crisis. Then, with a resolve born of desperation, she turned towards the door. In a moment of decisive action, she delivered a powerful kick, sending the door flying off its frame with a resounding crash.

They rushed into the house, their hearts pounding with a mix of fear and hope. The familiar surroundings now took on a surreal quality, overshadowed by the gravity of their mission. Every second counted as they moved swiftly towards Shawn's location.

Finding Shawn under the clear bin, they were confronted with a scene that was both heartbreaking and surreal. The once normal-sized room now dwarfed Shawn's tiny figure, his body barely discernible under the protective dome.

Dayva and Lola approached cautiously, their minds racing with questions. Was Shawn still alive? Had they arrived in time to save him? The tension in the air was palpable as they prepared to lift the bin and reveal the condition of their friend.

Dayva's hands, steady and resolute, lifted the plastic box that had become Shawn's immense, immoveable prison. What was once a simple storage solution had transformed into a barrier between Shawn and the world he once knew. The bin, now removed, revealed the stark reality of Shawn's condition—minuscule, vulnerable, and alarmingly still.

Lola, her medical training kicking in, moved into action. With a gentleness that belied her anxious state, she carefully rolled Shawn over, assessing his condition with a practiced eye. Relief washed over her as she found Shawn still breathing, his body showing signs of sufficient hydration. However, Shawn remained unresponsive, lost in a deep, catatonic-like state.

Kneeling beside their tiny friend, Dayva and Lola called down to Shawn, their voices soft yet filled with urgency. They hoped for any sign of recognition, any response to indicate that Shawn was aware of their presence. But there was only silence, Shawn's small form lying motionless, seemingly unreachable in his state of despair.

As minutes passed, Lola continued her attempts to rouse Shawn, gently shaking him, hoping to break the spell of his catatonia. But Shawn remained locked in his silent world, unresponsive to Lola's careful ministrations.

In a moment of desperation, Dayva, driven by a mix of fear and determination, shouted out. "Shawn!", the name echoing in the now-vast room. The sound of her voice, amplified and urgent, cut through the stillness.

Startled by the sudden intrusion into his silent world, Shawn's reaction was immediate and visceral. He shot up, a scream of terror escaping his tiny form. Awake but disoriented, his eyes wide with confusion and fear, Shawn looked around, trying to make sense of his situation.

Dayva and Lola, relieved at Shawn's awakening but concerned by his evident terror, quickly tried to soothe him. Their voices, now a calming presence, reached down to Shawn, offering reassurance and comfort.

"Shawn, it's okay. You're safe now," Lola said, her voice a gentle anchor in the tumultuous sea of Shawn's awakening.

Dayva added, "We're here for you, Shawn. We're going to help you."