The sky was a tapestry of fire, streaked with veins of ash and crimson. No sunrise had ever looked this way. No sunset had ever lingered with such foreboding. The world held its breath, as if even the wind feared to disturb the fragile peace before the collapse.
Lena Ashford stood at the edge of the Pacific cliffs, her dark hair whipping around her face like restless waves. The radio in her pocket crackled with static—the last remnants of a world that had once thrummed with human connection. The voice of humanity had grown faint, drowned out by a universe that had decided to reclaim its hold on Earth.
"This is Emergency Broadcast Channel 5. If you can hear this, proceed to Zone Delta for final evacuation. Repeat, Zone Delta for final evacuation…"
She clicked the device off. There was no point. Delta was three hundred miles away, and the highways were an apocalyptic snarl of abandoned cars, bodies, and desperation. People clung to the impossible, hoping against hope that someone would save them. Lena had stopped believing in salvation weeks ago.
Behind her, the air shimmered unnaturally. The heat wasn't coming from the blazing sun but from the faint, eerie glow of a rift—a tear in the fabric of reality itself. The first one had appeared in Alaska six months ago, an anomaly that scientists had marveled at, theorized about, and ultimately failed to contain. By the time the second rift opened in Siberia, it was clear this was no isolated phenomenon. The rifts spread like veins of some malignant cancer, each one growing larger and more violent, spilling unnatural storms, creatures, and chaos into the world.
"Lena."
The voice startled her, pulling her from her thoughts. She turned to see Caleb, his face pale beneath a layer of grime. His rifle was slung over his shoulder, though they both knew it was useless against the things that came from the rifts. The creatures weren't bound by physics or logic, and no amount of human ingenuity could outmatch their sheer otherness.
"They're moving inland," he said, his tone clipped. "We've got maybe an hour before the coastline's completely overrun."
Lena's lips tightened. "And then what? Keep running?"
Caleb hesitated, his jaw clenching. "There's a bunker near Grey Ridge. Small, off the grid. My brother used it for prepping. It's not much, but—"
"It's better than standing here waiting to die," she finished for him.
They didn't waste time arguing. The weight of survival had stripped away all excess emotion, leaving only the stark clarity of action. As they descended from the cliffs, the sound of the ocean became muted, replaced by the distant growls and hisses of the creatures.
The first time Lena had seen one, she'd thought it was some grotesque machine—a metallic mass of spines, limbs, and unblinking eyes. But the longer she stared, the more it seemed to shift, as though it existed in multiple dimensions at once. People had tried to name them, but no word could capture their alien nature. The riftspawn, as they were crudely called, weren't here to conquer. They were here to consume.
By the time they reached the remnants of a dirt road leading to Grey Ridge, the sun had dipped below the horizon, leaving only the dim, flickering glow of rift light in the distance. Caleb stopped suddenly, his hand shooting out to halt Lena.
"Do you hear that?" he whispered.
She strained her ears. At first, there was only the rustle of leaves and the distant hum of insects. Then she heard it—a low, resonant vibration, like the hum of a tuning fork pressed against her skull.
"Riftspawn?" she murmured.
Caleb didn't answer. He raised his rifle, his body tense. They moved cautiously, every step deliberate, as the vibration grew louder. The forest around them seemed to warp, trees bending at impossible angles, shadows stretching in ways that defied the light source.
And then they saw it.
Hovering above the ground was a creature unlike any Lena had seen before. Its body was translucent, pulsing with an inner glow that shifted from blue to violet. It moved soundlessly, save for the hum that filled the air. Where its eyes should have been, there was only a dark void, pulling at her gaze like a magnet.
Caleb fired instinctively, the sharp crack of the rifle shattering the tense silence. The bullet passed through the creature, leaving ripples in its translucent form but causing no visible harm. It turned toward them, its void-like gaze locking onto Lena.
Run, her mind screamed, but her legs wouldn't move. The creature's hum grew louder, vibrating through her bones, filling her head with a cacophony of whispers and alien thoughts.
"Lena!" Caleb grabbed her arm, yanking her back into motion. The creature didn't pursue; it simply hovered, watching as they fled deeper into the forest.
When they finally stumbled into the bunker's clearing, Lena collapsed against the metal door, gasping for air. Caleb punched in the access code, and the heavy door creaked open. Inside, the air was stale but blissfully quiet, the thick walls muffling the outside world.
As they secured the door, Lena looked at Caleb. "How long can we keep running?"
He didn't answer. Instead, he slid down the wall, burying his face in his hands.
Lena leaned back, staring at the dim light of the bunker's ceiling. For the first time since the rifts had appeared, she allowed herself a single, terrifying thought.
Maybe the world was never meant to last forever.