The sky over New York City did not tear open.
It simply changed.
At first, it was subtle. A thinning of sunlight. A soft whitening of the blue that made people squint upward without quite knowing why. A woman on her lunch break stopped mid-step, shielding her eyes as she frowned.
"Is it supposed to be cloudy today?"
Her coworker glanced up, squinting. "No. Weather app said clear skies."
Across the street, a taxi slowed to a crawl. The driver leaned forward over the wheel, craning his neck.
"Hmm that's weird," he muttered. "Clouds don't sit like that."
The shape lingered, unmoving.
Phones began to rise.
Someone laughed nervously. "Yo, is that a hologram?"
"No way," another replied. "That's huge."
The white mass hovered above the skyline, smooth and vast, its edges too defined to be natural. Sunlight bent around it wrong, refracting into pale halos that crawled across glass towers and metal rooftops. The shadow beneath it stretched wider and wider, swallowing streets block by block.
Traffic stalled completely.
A man stepped out of his car, door still open, staring straight up. "This some kind of quirk thing?"
A woman clutched her child close, voice tight. "Honey, don't look at it."
"But mom," the boy whispered, eyes wide. "It's looks like a white whale."
The temperature dropped.
Not sharply, but enough that people felt it in their skin. A cold breath brushed across the city, carrying no wind, only pressure. Conversations faltered. Smiles vanished.
Then the eye opened.
It was enormous, set deep within the white mass, yellowish orange and reflective like polished glass. It stared downward, unblinking.
The moment it focused, something changed.
A man laughed suddenly, sharp and high. "Why do I feel like it's looking at me?"
"I don't like this," someone else said. "I really don't like this."
A woman dropped her phone. "Did anyone else feel that?"
Emergency alerts began pinging across devices.
Unidentified aerial phenomenon.
Remain calm.
Heroes en route.
Police loudspeakers crackled to life, urging civilians to clear the streets. No one listened. Fear rooted people in place. Curiosity chained their feet.
News helicopters roared overhead, cameras zooming in, reporters shouting breathlessly into microphones.
"This is unprecedented," one anchor said, voice trembling. "We are seeing a massive unidentified entity hovering directly above Manhattan."
Then Captain Celebrity arrived.
He descended like a comet, landing atop a nearby building with practiced flair. His presence was immediate, reassuring. Cheers erupted from the crowd, shaky but loud.
"CAPTAIN CELEBRITY!"
"That's our guy!"
"We're saved!"
He raised a hand, cape fluttering behind him, visor gleaming. He tapped his communication device.
"Citizens of New York," his voice boomed through emergency channels and speakers. "Remain calm. This appears to be a large-scale manifestation. Possibly a mutation or quirk-related anomaly. I will assess and de-escalate."
Applause broke out.
A man wiped sweat from his brow. "See? We're fine."
"I knew it," someone said, laughing weakly. "Heroes got this."
Captain Celebrity launched himself upward, streaking toward the creature in a controlled arc. Cameras followed him, zooming closer, closer.
As he approached, his confidence faltered.
The air thickened around him, resistance pressing against his skin like invisible hands.
Still, he slowed, raising one hand.
"Easy now," he called, dropping his arrogance. "If you can understand me, you don't need to be afraid. We can work this out."
The eye shifted.
It focused on him.
Captain Celebrity's breath hitched.
The mouth opened.
The sound that followed did not belong in the world.
It was not loud. It was invasive.
ROAR!
A guttural cry rolled outward, layered and deep, vibrating through bone and thought alike. Windows shattered instantly. Glass rained down in glittering sheets. Streetlights burst. Car alarms screamed and died.
People collapsed.
Hands flew to ears as blood seeped between fingers.
"No no no no," a woman sobbed, dropping to her knees. "Make it stop."
A man screamed and laughed at the same time, clawing at his face. "It's inside my head!"
Children wailed as parents fell beside them, shaking, eyes unfocused.
Captain Celebrity screamed.
The sound hit him like a physical blow. His vision fractured, splitting into overlapping images. Applause twisted into jeers. Triumph into humiliation. His hands clawed at his helmet, at his face, nails digging deep.
"Stop," he gasped. "Please stop."
He laughed hysterically, then screamed again, tearing at his own skin as if something were crawling beneath it.
Below, the city unraveled.
Heroes arrived in waves.
They lasted seconds.
Those who flew dropped from the sky, convulsing midair. Those on the ground collapsed screaming, training and power meaningless against a sound that bypassed reality itself.
Sirens tried to rise again.
They failed.
The roar pulsed, each wave worse than the last. Memories surged uncontrolled. Voices whispered guilt and longing. Faces from the past surfaced to accuse.
Captain Celebrity fell.
He crashed through the side of a building in a rain of glass and steel, disappearing from view.
Then the sound stopped.
Silence fell, heavy and unnatural.
People sobbed, gasped, laughed weakly in relief.
Then mist poured from the creature.
Thick. White. Endless.
It rolled through the streets like a living thing, swallowing cars, buildings, people. Visibility vanished within moments. Screams echoed and then cut off abruptly.
From above, New York City disappeared beneath a blanket of white.
The White Whale hovered silently. Swimming in the air.
And the world watched, helpless.
A/N: Wow did you guys expect that? Anyways I hope you guys are still enjoying the story!