The sky was breaking.
At least, that was what it looked like to Calen as he stood in the middle of the orphanage courtyard, staring up at the heavens. The sun, once unwavering and constant, began to fracture. Its golden light split apart like shards of glass, sending ripples of light across the vast sky. For a brief moment, time seemed to freeze. The sun seemed to shatter, sending streaks of light scattering through the air, as though it could no longer hold itself together. The world had never felt so fragile.
Calen's eyes were locked on the spectacle above, a strange pull in his chest urging him to understand what was happening. The world around him seemed to be holding its breath, as if everything were waiting for something—something that had been set in motion long before the first crack in the sky. His hands clenched into fists at his sides, though he could feel his own pulse racing, a tension building in the pit of his stomach.
The children around him were in a state of panic, running in all directions, screaming, but Calen stood still. He didn't run. He didn't scream. He simply watched. Something deep inside him stirred—something that had always been there, waiting for a moment like this.
The city was starting to unravel.
People were running in every direction, abandoning their shops, their vehicles, their daily routines. Some fell to their knees in prayer, while others simply stared in disbelief, frozen in the face of the impossible. Calen watched as the frantic chaos unfolded around him, but the truth was, he couldn't tear his gaze away from the sky.
Something was calling to him.
The world's fracture wasn't merely a visual phenomenon. It felt… alive. The very air had changed. It became thicker, as though the sky itself was pressing down on the city, suffocating it. There was a strange energy in the air now, a sensation that every step, every movement was being watched.
A low rumble vibrated through the ground, and Calen could feel the tremor in his bones. His senses were sharp, clearer than they had ever been before. The air seemed to vibrate with the same intensity as the ground beneath him. The cracks in the sky spread wider, revealing something beyond, something incomprehensible.
And then came the silence.
It wasn't the usual silence that follows chaos. This silence felt heavier, as though the world itself had ceased to move. The screaming, the cries of fear, the frantic footsteps—all of it stopped. The wind held its breath. The earth stilled.
Calen blinked and turned his head. The children, the caretakers, even the masses in the streets—everyone had disappeared. The city was still there, its buildings standing tall, but the life that filled it was gone. The streets, once so full of movement, now lay empty. No sounds, no voices, nothing at all.
He felt a sense of loss, though he couldn't name it. It was as though the world had shifted just out of his reach. The atmosphere around him felt empty, hollow, like a dream slipping away. And yet, in that emptiness, something was waiting.
Then, as though the very fabric of the world had been torn open, something emerged from the cracks in the sky.
A shape.
It drifted into view, shifting and flickering between forms, struggling to remain in the world. It was neither shadow nor light. It wasn't something that could be described by words. Its presence was undeniable, yet impossible to fully comprehend. It wasn't solid, but it was there—alive, pulsing, reaching out.
Calen's breath caught in his throat, his heart pounding in his chest. The entity's presence pressed against him, like a weight in his mind, its energy vibrating through the very air he breathed.
Then, it spoke.
"You see, where others are blind."
The voice was not a sound, not something that could be heard with ears. It was a sensation, a presence in his mind. The words hit him with a force he couldn't explain, though they carried no emotion, no urgency. They were simply delivered as fact. Absolute. Undeniable.
Calen shivered, his skin crawling. He felt the words echo through him, reverberating in his mind as though they had always been there, hidden beneath the surface of his thoughts. The thing knew him.
He took a deep breath, his voice barely a whisper as he spoke. "Who… are you?"
The entity flickered, shifting, the edges of its form distorting. It didn't appear to be a physical being, yet it existed. It was real.
"We are what remains. And you… you are a fragment waiting to be whole."
The words made no sense. And yet, in that moment, Calen knew. He understood them. They weren't a message being conveyed to him, but a truth that was being unlocked from deep within himself. He wasn't just hearing the words. He was remembering them.
The feeling was overwhelming. It felt as though the very core of his being was being rewritten, rewritten by something ancient, something older than anything he could comprehend. His body trembled as an energy he couldn't name rushed through him, filling the emptiness that had grown within him. His fingers curled into tight fists, but his legs felt like they might give way beneath him.
Before he could respond, the world shifted once again.
The cracks in the sky closed, sealing themselves as quickly as they had opened. The oppressive weight that had pressed against him lifted, and with it, the presence vanished.
The world returned to its normal state, but it wasn't the same.
Sound returned to the city—footsteps, voices, the cries of fear, the hurried whispers of people trying to comprehend what had just happened. It was as though nothing had changed, but Calen knew better. He could still feel the fracture inside him, still feel the pulsing energy that had awakened.
He looked around, seeing the orphanage courtyard filled with children again—some sobbing, some standing frozen, their wide eyes staring into the distance. Caretakers rushed to calm them, but their words were lost on him.
Calen looked down at his hands. They trembled. His fingers twitched, a strange energy running through them. Though the sky had closed itself, he could still feel the fractures. They had not closed. They had only just begun to spread.
And deep inside, something was waiting.
Waiting to emerge.