The next disappearance happened three days later.
Aiden and Lila were at the park, trying to distract themselves from the constant news coverage. The air was crisp, the sun shining through the trees. For a moment, everything felt normal.
Until it didn't.
It started with a strange hum, so low and deep that Aiden felt it in his bones. He froze mid-step, looking around.
"Do you hear that?" he asked.
Lila frowned. "Hear what?"
The hum grew louder, vibrating through the ground. The other parkgoers began to notice, some looking up at the sky, others checking their phones.
Then it happened.
A fountain at the center of the park shimmered, its edges flickering like static. Aiden felt the pull again—stronger this time, like a magnet drawing him forward.
"Not again," he whispered.
The fountain imploded, its water spiraling into the air. The ground beneath it cracked, splintering into fragments, and then everything vanished—the fountain, the water, the benches nearby.
Aiden stumbled back, the force of the disappearance knocking him off balance. Lila grabbed his arm, her face pale.
"We need to go," she said.
But Aiden couldn't move. He stared at the empty space where the fountain had been, the hum fading into silence.
It wasn't just the fountain that disappeared. It was the people sitting nearby.