The True Enemy Reveals Itself
The sky fractured.
Ethan felt it before he saw it—a wrongness in the air, a pressure that coiled around reality like unseen hands twisting the world into something unnatural. It wasn't a sound or a tremor, but a deep, crawling sensation at the edge of his mind, a violation of the natural order.
The horizon shimmered, the colors bleeding together like spilled ink on water. The very fabric of existence wavered, rippling with unnatural energy. A deep hum thrummed through the ground, growing louder, insistent, until it pulsed in his chest like a second heartbeat.
The Rift distortions were worsening.
Orion adjusted his visor, his fingers tense as he tried to recalibrate, but the display flickered wildly—symbols scrambling into meaningless gibberish before flashing red and dying completely. He cursed under his breath. "This isn't just another anomaly," he muttered, his voice tight with unease. "This is deliberate."
