Chapter Two: When the Earth Cried
The pillar descending dramatically on the city.
Mass confusion and chaos.
People dying—students, civilians—sparking fear and conflict.
Tension as the government, media, and families respond in panic.
The sky roared like a beast in agony.
Michael flinched as the sound crashed through the atmosphere, so loud it rattled the windows of nearby buildings. People screamed, some dropping to the ground with hands over their ears, others simply frozen in place, eyes locked on the heavens. The deep blue sky had become a canvas of chaos—and then, something tore through it.
It came from above. A pillar of light, wide as a skyscraper, descended from the heavens in a straight, silent line.
But it wasn't light. Not exactly.
It shimmered like a living thing, rippling with colors that didn't belong in this world—purples that burned, whites that shimmered like glass, and shadows that swirled like smoke trapped inside. It slammed into the city center just past the skyline, miles away, but the force was instant. The ground shook violently, like a living thing groaning beneath their feet.
Michael staggered back, grabbing a pole to steady himself. Behind him, kids were screaming—teachers yelling to get inside, cars screeching to a halt, phones vibrating endlessly in pockets with panicked alerts.
A second later, the shockwave hit.
Glass shattered. Alarms screamed. Michael was thrown backward as a pulse of energy washed over them, warm and suffocating, like fire and static and wind all at once. He hit the pavement hard and rolled onto his side, coughing.
Somewhere nearby, someone was crying. Someone else was yelling for help.
Michael pushed himself up, eyes wide as he looked toward the horizon.
Where the pillar had touched down, a crater had formed. Entire buildings near the impact zone were simply... gone. Flattened. Vaporized. A thick black cloud was rising, choked with ash and glowing fragments.
The city was on fire.
The teachers were trying to gather students, but it was impossible. Parents were already arriving, some sobbing, some screaming their children's names. Police cars blared past in the streets, sirens swallowed up by the growing panic. The sky above continued to ripple, a slow pulse like a heartbeat—something ancient and wrong.
Michael ran. He didn't know why or where—only that every instinct in his body told him to get home.
Mom. Dad. The baby.
People were running in every direction. One girl tripped and was nearly trampled until someone yanked her up. A power line snapped, whipping across the street with a sound like thunder. One of the streetlights exploded in sparks.
As Michael sprinted down the sidewalk, he saw it—his first real glimpse of death.
A bus had been caught in the blast radius. It was turned on its side, smoke pouring from the shattered windows. Inside, bodies were still. Some kids were trying to pull people out. One of them was just standing there, unmoving, eyes wide like they couldn't understand what they were seeing.
Michael's heart thundered.
This wasn't just an event. This was a massacre.
And it wasn't over.
More pillars began to descend—smaller this time, in flickering bursts across the globe, shown on every screen as satellite footage caught the impact zones lighting up like scars on the Earth.
They weren't random. They were targeted.
Something was choosing.
And whatever it was—it wasn't human.
Hours Later…
The world was not silent—but everything felt muffled, like sound had retreated beneath fear.
Government broadcasts flooded every screen. News anchors wept openly on live television. Foreign leaders demanded answers. Scientists spoke in frantic tones, unable to explain the anomaly, only repeating the word "extradimensional" until it lost meaning.
Death tolls rose by the hour. Tens of thousands. Then hundreds.
Michael sat on the couch in his living room, face pale, his mother gripping his shoulders tightly. She had cried when he returned home. His father hadn't come back yet. He was still somewhere downtown.
Outside, the sky continued to shimmer. The pillar in their city still stood tall—now cracked like glass but unchanging.
No one could approach it. Every time the military or scientists tried, their equipment would short out. People who got too close either collapsed, seized, or bled from the eyes and never woke up.
It was like the air around it was rejecting life itself.
Then It Began
At first, it was one video. Shaky, posted anonymously.
A young boy, maybe ten years old, standing near the edge of one of the smaller impact zones. His face was twisted in rage, tears streaking his cheeks. His sister lay unmoving behind him, and the boy—screamed.
And then his body lit up.
Cracks of red lightning danced across his arms. The ground beneath him shattered in a perfect circle. Around him, the sky flickered—responding.
By morning, there were dozens of clips. Children who had previously shown no signs of ability—suddenly awakening. Some erupted in fire. Others floated, screamed, teleported, healed others, or warped the very world around them.
But only children.
And only those who had been near the pillars.
Theories exploded. Some said it was evolution. Others called it an alien weapon. The religious called it the "Judgment Flame." The government called it "Phenomenon A."
But to the people… it was just fear.
Because some of those kids couldn't control it.
Some were afraid. Angry. Alone.
One boy set his entire house on fire just by crying. Another shattered all the glass on his street just by screaming. A girl turned invisible—and never reappeared.
The number of deaths grew again.
The Spark
By the end of the third day, riots had broken out in cities. The military began locking down impact zones. Parents begged for answers. Some locked their children in rooms. Others abandoned them out of fear.
Michael didn't sleep.
He could still feel that hum in the air—that invisible heartbeat.
At school, almost no one showed up. The teachers didn't know what to say. His friends didn't joke or laugh. They barely looked at each other.
But Michael felt something inside him, too. Something low, curling in his gut like a flicker of heat.
He didn't know what it was. Not yet.
But deep in his chest, something had changed.
He wasn't alone.
Somewhere out there, hundreds—maybe thousands—of other children were feeling the same thing.
A crack. A spark.
And soon…
The world would burn.