My watch reads just past seven thirty in the morning, but the Sun is nowhere to be found in its usual position. An incredible, perplexing sight confronts me as I stand on the observation platform, looking out over Lake Ford's vast blue waters. The lake is exceptionally clear this morning, reflecting the unusual skies above. Our family cabin, a mere fifteen-minute trek from this tower, didn't bring me here today. No, I climbed the mountain to confirm the unsettling reality before me, to ensure I wasn't trapped in some twisted dream. From my vantage point, the base of the mountain and the distant shoreline appear familiar yet altered in subtle, disquieting ways.
Something is distinctly wrong, though I can't quite put my finger on it from this distance. Slowly, like a ghostly white wave, fog clouds advance, and the sky above only deepens my unease. The early morning sunbeams, which should be emerging from the east, are instead cascading down from the north—a phenomenon that defies Everything I know. It's not the end of the world, nor some catastrophic event, but a profound alteration of the world as I understood it. But this isn't the only perplexity confronting me. Another, even more baffling sight casts its glow from above. It's not one Sun that bathes me in light but several.
I'm staring at more than one Sun in the sky—a notion that contradicts all my understanding of this world. A colossal blue sun, dwarfing the familiar yellow one, rises in the northwest. Beside it, a slightly smaller twin sun ascends, its yellow rays indistinguishable from the Sun I've known all my life. From the observation platform, I witness an astonishing sight—contrasting colors emanating from the northwest. Over the rim of the massive crater mountain, the white and green rays of two more suns are yet to crest the ridge. The sheer size of these celestial bodies is beyond my comprehension. "Four suns? This is... unbelievable," I mutter to myself, my mind reeling from the implications.
The warmth from the two northern suns erases any lingering thought of this being a mere dream. "Could the recent loss of my parents have triggered a mental breakdown in me?" I wonder aloud, only to dismiss the thought immediately. This is real, unmistakably so. My mind races back to the events that led me here. Just a week ago, I drove across multiple territories, returning to Pineford for the first time since leaving for military service. The recent, unexpected death of our parents brought my three younger sisters and me back to our hometown—a reunion none of us could have anticipated.
Our lives had diverged since college, each of us carving out our own path. We stayed in touch, of course, but our physical reunions were rare. "I never imagined a tragedy like this would be what brought us together," I reflect, a pang of sadness mingling with disbelief. My sisters, the triplets, hadn't returned to Pineford for Christmas in years. Instead, our parents would visit them, alternating between their homes each holiday season. As for me, my military and conflict zone assignments often kept me far from any familial gatherings.
The irony isn't lost on me—the moment I finally return, the world turns on its head. The bark of a Jeep below snaps me out of my reverie, reminding me that time is of the essence. I quickly descend to the Jeep, pausing only to take one last chilling glimpse at the landscape beyond the crater's mountain ring through the binoculars on the deck.
The drive back to the cabin is a blur, every second feeling like an eternity slipping through my fingers. As I race down the dirt road leading to my parents' cabin, I don't dare slow down. Skidding to a halt beside my motorhome, I recall parking it here just two nights ago, mere hours before the girls and their boyfriends arrived. Our reunion was brief, overshadowed by the somber reason for our gathering. The funeral the next day was a whirlwind of familiar and unfamiliar faces, the events of the day blurring together in my memory. We stayed up late, surrounded by family members who lingered at the cabin, not retiring until the early hours of the morning.
Waking up early is my norm, but the exhaustion from the funeral day kept me in bed longer than usual. Pineford, a place I hadn't visited in years, seemed different somehow. The reason for my sisters' return remains a mystery, but there must be something significant about it. The cabin, perched atop a large shield mountain with rolling peaks, overlooks a medium-sized town of twenty thousand people on the mountain's north side.
This morning, however, something is amiss. Pineford lies below, seemingly unchanged, yet there's an indefinable difference. The more I try to pinpoint the change, the more my head throbs with confusion. Everything appears to be in its rightful place, down to the sandy shores of Lake Ford. But the far shoreline seems more distant, the central part of the city enlarged. Over the years, the town expanded to encompass the entire base of the mountain, its exotic location drawing more residents.
As the two stars in the binary system ascend into the night sky, their combined radiance casts a mesmerizing glow over the bustling city below. The city's lights begin to fade in comparison to the brilliance of the binary stars. Meanwhile, the four suns continue their ascent, piercing through the horizon with their piercing rays that illuminate the surrounding town in a golden hue. My mind drifts to the barren landscape beyond the mountain's towering crater ridge, where a vast expanse of white, lifeless trees stretches as far as the eye can see. The sight is haunting yet strangely beautiful. But, it's the view from Mount Pineford that takes my breath away; rising thousands of feet above the crater ring, it offers a spectacular vista that extends for miles on a clear day.
And today, with four suns in the sky and no clouds to obstruct the view, I see too much. The land beyond the crater's walls is a desolate wasteland, scorched and dried under the relentless gaze of multiple suns. "What in the world is happening?" I ask myself, feeling the trained instincts of a Navy SEAL kick in, along with a more primal sense of danger.
Protecting my sisters is my top priority now. My military experience, coupled with my travels in the mixed martial arts circuit, has honed my defensive skills. My work as a foreman at a construction company and my do-it-yourself attitude have equipped me with survival skills. The gravity of our situation is not lost on me—I understand the severity of these changes.
Without wasting a moment, I secure the cabin. Everyone else is still asleep, unaware of the altered world outside. My mind races through countless scenarios, evaluating every possible outcome. I'm neither foolish nor naive. Trusting my instincts, I follow my father's example and spring into action.
I secure every window and door in the cabin, engaging the security shutters and setting the entry points to the sleeping quarters and other areas in a heightened state of readiness. I leave the internal doors open, not wanting to trap my sisters and their boyfriends. They know the security codes in case of a lockdown. I then meticulously checked every inch of the cabin, inside and out.
After securing the cabin, I move the motorhome into one of the four large barns adjacent to the property. Our family estate is vast, comprising several buildings and barns, all connected to the main cabin. My father, a man of convenience and practicality, built this place with his own hands, just as he built his business. His influence is evident in every aspect of the property—the barns, horse stables, and grain mills, all meticulously connected.
Armed and vigilant, I prepare myself for any threat. I holster a forty-five-caliber pistol at my hip, a three-fifty-seven in an underarm holster, and sling my favorite compact M416 carbine over my shoulder. My last line of defense is a five-shot Remington shotgun. I run a hand over my clean-cut military-style mohawk, feeling its familiar texture. On my father's desk, I find his signature gold-rimmed glasses. I put them on, looking into the mirror.
I am gazing at my reflection in the mirror, admiring the striking features that define my appearance. My dark brown skin is a stark contrast to the piercing blue hue of my eyes, a rare combination that draws attention. My slightly slanted eyebrows gracefully arch over my almond-shaped eyes, lending an air of mystery and intrigue. The length and shape of my prominent triangular nose, paired with my thin lips, give me a serious, no-nonsense appearance. The angular square shape of my face is emphasized by my high cheekbones, adding to my overall intimidating presence. Even my beard, styled after my father's, contributes to my formidable look.
As I stand there, fully armed and alert, I am keenly aware that the challenges ahead are unlike any I have ever faced before. The world outside is vastly different, and with it, the rules of survival have changed. I am prepared to defend my family and unravel the mysteries of this altered reality. The first light of the four suns filters through the windows, casting long, unfamiliar shadows across the room. As I take a deep breath, I prepare myself for the unknown challenges that lie ahead, ready to face whatever comes my way.