Let’s meet the panelists for “Humanity in Stories”, a written panel scheduled for upload sometime mid-May 2026. A brief introduction on how this came about can be found here.

Vida Cruz-Borja is a fantasy and science fiction writer and editor. Her short stories and essays have been published in F&SF, Fantasy, Strange Horizons, PodCastle, and various anthologies. She won the 2022 IGNYTE Award for Best Creative Nonfiction for “We are the Mountain: A Look at the Inactive Protagonist” and the Philippine National Book Award for Best Fiction in English for her illustrated short story collection Song of the Mango and Other New Myths (2022). Her latest book is the fantasy and horror novella Mirror Marked (2025). She is affiliated with the editorial groups Tessera Creatives and The Darling Axe, and she is the owner of Arcane Oblong Editorial and Design. Vida lives in Manila with her husband, daughter, and their dogs.

by Kenneth Yu

A few weeks ago, a friend, Carljoe Javier, messaged me. Carljoe is a writer and creative but also an AI ethicist who is deep into the latest technological advances in AI, especially concerned with how AI is affecting not just the creative field, but society in general. 

He told me that there were two social media posts by mutual friends about AI that garnered his attention precisely because they, too, echoed somewhat his own concerns about the direction we are all being taken in. These posts were by mutual friends Vida Cruz-Borja, a writer and editor; and Gabi Francisco, an educator, book reviewer, and theater lover. 

From left to right: Horror writer Yvette Tan, Carljoe Javier, and me, having coffee one afternoon sometime last year. 

by Mayumi Cruz

You started it all, Serena.

The moment your dainty little feet stepped on the creamy white sand, I felt the moon’s invisible, magnetic pull tug at my heartstrings, spinning them into an infinite dance of tides. 

You sat upon the old stone, born of the salt of my tears, and unknowingly marked it as your own—-your dark tresses dancing with the wind. Your eyes wandered with awe, and my breath was caught in their beauty. You loved the sun as it touched your pink cheeks. Your gentle smile and your naiveté held me prisoner. And when you sang, your dulcet voice brought me unimaginable joy, and my heart burst into rainbows.

Lovingly, I singed your skin with my saltwater, leaving a faint mark on your ankle that would not fade. You became my child. 

Driven towards lifelong learning and writing stories set both in alternate worlds and this one, Eriel Edward Red is currently pursuing a Master’s Degree in Creative Writing at the University of the Philippines Diliman. Prior to that, he graduated with a Bachelor of Arts in Theology, Major in Church Music Conducting at the Far Eastern Bible Institute and Seminary, pursuing both of his major artistic passions in the process. At the moment, he teaches music in the Philippine Missionary Institute, informing his students in matters of music, theology, and on occasion, stories that he made up and wrote. In addition, he has won several online writing competitions.

Outside of academia, he is an avid catlover, with three cats named Maria, Celestina, and Andronikos. He spends his free time thinking of new story concepts while taking long walks with the aforementioned cats, reading novels, watching science fiction media, and playing the piano.

Some of his other works include “Pictures”, a story of a day in the life of an immortal android serving the same family for centuries; “Drone Strike,” where a drone operator is forced to confront the consequences of his occupation; and “I Will Always Reach Out”, which shows what happens when an adoptive parent lives far longer than the adopted child.

by Eriel Edward Red

Image by Глеб Коровко on Pexels. (All photos and videos on Pexels can be downloaded and used for free).

It didn’t begin with a knock.

A chittering noise echoed through the apartment door, like the kind one would hear from a giant insect. Galen Rodan, junior underwriter and long-time resident of the Olympus Mons Metroplex, froze just as he was about to take a sip of his genetically modified coffee.

Another chittering sound, then the sound of something large shifting its weight. Then, the doorbell, a high-pitched chime, rang.

“All right,” Galen muttered as he took a sip. “They’re actually here.”

The man set down his mug and got off his floating chair. He glanced momentarily at his laptop, which displayed an email from the Bureau of Social Reconciliation and Strategic Housing Efficiency.

  He read the message again. “In accordance with Reintegration Directive 77-B, your dwelling unit has been deemed suitable for cohabitation with a liberated Neosapien citizen undergoing urban acclimatization.”