The world ended on a Tuesday.
It wasn't the kind of end anyone had imagined—no fiery asteroids, no zombie hordes, no nuclear winter. It was quieter than that, more insidious. It began with the sky.
Elliot Hayes stood on the roof of his apartment building, his breath fogging in the cold autumn air. He had come up here to escape the noise of the city, to clear his head after another long day at the lab. But as he stared at the horizon, he felt a chill that had nothing to do with the temperature. The sky was wrong.
It wasn't the usual deep indigo of twilight. Instead, it shimmered with an unnatural, almost metallic sheen, like oil spreading across water. Streaks of amber and crimson cut through the clouds, as though the sun had forgotten how to set properly. Elliot frowned, his scientist's mind racing to make sense of it. Atmospheric refraction? A rare weather phenomenon? He pulled out his phone and snapped a picture, but the image on the screen looked even stranger, the colors distorted and surreal.
"What the hell is that?" a voice behind him asked.
Elliot turned to see his neighbor, Mia, stepping onto the roof. She was bundled in a thick coat, her dark curls spilling out from under a knitted hat. She joined him at the edge of the roof, her eyes widening as she took in the sky.
"I don't know," Elliot admitted. "But it's… not normal."
Mia shivered. "It's beautiful, though. In a creepy kind of way."
Elliot didn't answer. He was too busy watching the sky shift and ripple, the colors deepening and swirling like a living thing. He felt a strange pressure in his chest, a sense of unease that he couldn't shake. Something was coming. He could feel it in the air, in the way the wind seemed to hold its breath.
By the time they went back inside, the news was already spreading. Social media was flooded with photos and videos of the sky, each one more unsettling than the last. Scientists and meteorologists were baffled, offering theories that ranged from solar flares to atmospheric pollution. But no one had a real explanation.
The next morning, the sky was still wrong.
Elliot woke to the sound of his phone buzzing incessantly on the nightstand. He groaned, reaching for it, and saw a flood of notifications. Emergency alerts. News updates. Messages from friends and colleagues. He sat up, his heart pounding as he scanned the headlines.
"Global Phenomenon: Strange Sky Persists Overnight."
"Scientists Baffled by Unprecedented Atmospheric Event."
"Is This the End? Conspiracy Theories Run Wild."
He threw on a jacket and hurried back to the roof. The sky was even stranger in the daylight. The metallic sheen had intensified, casting an eerie glow over the city. The sun was a pale, watery disk, barely visible through the haze. People were gathered on rooftops and sidewalks, staring up at the sky with a mix of awe and fear.
Elliot's phone buzzed again. It was a text from Dr. Patel, his supervisor at the lab.
"Elliot, we need you here ASAP. Something's happening."
He didn't need to be told twice. He grabbed his keys and ran for the stairs, his mind racing. The lab was one of the most advanced research facilities in the country, specializing in atmospheric science and climate studies. If anyone could figure out what was going on, it was them.
The streets were chaos. Traffic was gridlocked, horns blaring as drivers leaned out their windows to gawk at the sky. Pedestrians crowded the sidewalks, their faces tilted upward. Elliot wove through the crowd, his breath coming in short gasps. He could feel the tension in the air, the collective unease of a city—a world—on edge.
When he finally reached the lab, it was in full crisis mode. Researchers were clustered around monitors, their voices overlapping in a cacophony of theories and questions. Dr. Patel was in the center of it all, her face pale but focused. She spotted Elliot and waved him over.
"What do we know?" he asked, trying to catch his breath.
"Not much," she admitted. "The sky's refracting light in a way we've never seen before. It's like the atmosphere's… changing. But we don't know why."
Elliot frowned. "Changing how?"
Dr. Patel hesitated, then gestured to a monitor displaying a live feed from a satellite. "Look at this."
The image showed the Earth from space, but it wasn't the familiar blue and green orb. The atmosphere was shimmering, almost like a soap bubble, with strange, iridescent patterns swirling across its surface. Elliot stared at it, his stomach twisting.
"That's not possible," he said quietly.
"It shouldn't be," Dr. Patel agreed. "But it's happening. And it's not just here. It's everywhere."
Elliot's mind raced. If the atmosphere was changing on a global scale, the implications were catastrophic. Weather patterns, ecosystems, even the air they breathed—everything could be affected. But what could cause something like this?
Before he could voice the question, the lights flickered. The hum of the lab's equipment stuttered, then died. The room plunged into silence, broken only by the faint sound of alarms in the distance.
"Power's out," someone said unnecessarily.
Elliot's phone buzzed again. He pulled it out, his stomach sinking as he read the latest alert.
"BREAKING: Electrical Grids Failing Worldwide. Authorities Urge Calm."
Calm. Right. Elliot looked around the lab, at the faces of his colleagues—fearful, confused, desperate for answers. He thought of Mia, of the city outside, of the world beyond. Whatever was happening, it was bigger than any of them. Bigger than anything they'd ever faced.
And it was only just beginning.