The woman was already bleeding. She stood in the middle of a ruined street that did not exist on any map, her armor cracked and her breathing uneven. Faint blue symbols pulsed across her gauntlet, flickering as if struggling to stay alive. The air around her felt wrong, heavy, as if reality itself was holding its breath. In front of her, the shadow moved. It had no true shape. It was tall, vast, and darker than darkness itself. Space bent around it, and sound seemed to avoid it entirely. Looking at it for too long made her vision ache. She tightened her grip on her blade and took a step forward. "For the Seve—" she began, but the shadow passed through her. There was no scream and no warning. One moment she was standing whole, the next her body split cleanly in two, as if reality itself had cut her apart. Her upper half collapsed before her lower half even understood it was gone. The symbols on her armor went dark, her blade slipped from her fingers and struck the broken ground. The shadow lingered for a brief second, then vanished. Far away, something changed.
California sunlight spilled through the high school hallways, too bright for how Alex felt inside. He sat alone at the far end of the lunch hall, shoulders relaxed and eyes distant. Earbuds sealed him off from laughter, clattering trays, and conversations he didn't belong to. A movie played on his phone, but he wasn't really watching it. It was just something to keep his mind quiet. Alex was sixteen years old, already taller than most of his classmates. His face was calm, almost empty, the kind of calm people mistook for strength. He finished his lunch without tasting it. Across the hall, four students circled a smaller boy near the lockers, their voices low and sharp. A shove. A laugh. The boy stumbled, his eyes darting until they landed on Alex. For a moment, the world paused. Alex noticed him. Their eyes met. The boy didn't ask for help. He didn't need to. There was hope there, fragile and desperate. Alex looked back at his phone. The movie kept playing. When the bell rang, the bullies scattered into the crowd and the boy disappeared with them. Alex slipped his phone into his pocket and walked to class as if nothing had happened.
The classroom was quiet in that lifeless afternoon way. Alex took his seat near the window, sunlight tracing the edge of his desk. He put his earbuds back in and pressed play. The teacher spoke, but Alex didn't hear a word. His mind drifted to a hospital room, to machines beeping softly, to a woman holding his hand and trying to smile through pain. "It's okay, Alex," she had said. "You'll be okay." She was wrong. When school ended, Alex waited near the parking lot, leaning against a metal railing as cars passed by and students laughed around him. Life moved forward without asking his permission.
Then she arrived. Grace, his twin sister. She pulled up in an old sports car that had seen better decades, its engine growling louder than it needed to. She rolled down the window and studied him, concern clear in her eyes. "Get in," she said. Alex slid into the passenger seat. The car smelled like oil, leather, and something familiar. Home. They drove in silence for a while, palm trees blurring past the windows. Finally, Grace spoke. "Why are you like this lately? Is it because of Mom?" Alex stared out the window. "It's been a year," she continued. "We're still here. We're trying." "She was everything," Alex said quietly. "After Dad disappeared, she raised us alone." Grace tightened her grip on the steering wheel. "You're my other half," she said. "I need you." Alex didn't answer.
They were living in their mother's sister's house now. Their aunt was young, barely ten years older than them, suddenly responsible for two grieving teenagers. The house was filled with quiet tension, arguments that never finished, and bills that sat too long on the table. Every day felt the same, until the weekend. On Saturday morning, their aunt suggested a short family trip. Grace agreed immediately, hoping it would help. Alex shook his head. "I'm not coming." Grace frowned. "You can't stay stuck forever." "I said no." They left without him.
Sunday passed with no calls and no messages. Alex told himself they were busy. Monday morning arrived anyway. He sat at the kitchen table, cereal untouched, the television murmuring in the background. Then the tone changed. A red banner flashed across the screen. Breaking News. The anchor spoke carefully. Authorities were investigating reports of an unidentified creature that had appeared suddenly and vanished just as quickly. Several people were reported missing. Images filled the screen, blurry footage and flashing police lights. Then a list of names appeared. Alex leaned closer. Grace Carter. Sixteen. Below it was his aunt's name. The room tilted. "No," Alex whispered. The spoon slipped from his hand and hit the floor. His vision blurred, his ears rang, and his legs gave out beneath him. He collapsed to the ground as the television kept talking. And somewhere far beyond the sky, beyond sight and sound, something unseen turned its attention fully toward him.
The beginning of the end was not coming.
It had already begun