The first rays of sunlight spilled into the modest apartment, painting the walls with gold. Ayes Gebra stretched on the edge of his bed, feeling the familiar warmth of a quiet morning. He had always loved mornings—the soft hum of life waking around him, the smell of coffee brewing, and the gentle chatter of his family.
"Get up, Ayes! You're going to be late for class again," his younger sister called, barging into the room with a mischievous grin.
"Late? I always arrive five minutes early," Ayes replied, yawning. He was calm, collected, and observant, traits that had earned him respect among classmates and coworkers alike.
"Yeah, right. You snooze and I win the morning battle every time," she said, dramatically crossing her arms.
Their mother peeked in from the kitchen. "Ayes, don't forget breakfast. You need fuel for your brain. And eat your vegetables!"
He smiled, shaking his head. His parents' love was constant, simple, yet deeply comforting. Life had always been ordinary—and he liked it that way. Ordinary mornings, ordinary homework struggles, ordinary arguments with his sister.
Speaking of arguments, today was no exception. His sister had "borrowed" his laptop charger without asking, and he found it missing.
"Really? You can't just take my stuff!" Ayes said, trying to suppress his irritation.
"But I needed it!" she protested. "I have a project due, and your charger is faster than the one in my room."
...day.By the time Ayes arrived at the university, the campus was buzzing. Students laughed, debated, and rushed to classes. He walked with a calm stride, observing everything: the way the sunlight glinted off glass windows, the flutter of leaves in the courtyard, the expressions of students around him.
"Hey, Ayes! Over here!" a friend called, waving from a bench.
He approached the small group, a quiet smile on his face. His friends were as different as night and day.
Kaos, clever and playful, always teasing him
Mira, reserved and observant, often the voice of reason
Lusi, a classmate with a sharp wit and teasing glances—someone who made his heart skip without him even realizing
"Late again," Kaos said with a smirk.
"Early, as always," Ayes corrected, earning a laugh from Lina.
Class discussions followed, debates on ancient civilizations and modern theories. Ayes' mind moved quickly, analyzing, questioning, and finding connections others often missed. Lusi caught his eye across the room, a teasing smile playing on her lips. Their playful banter was a comfort, a spark in the monotony of student life.
After class, Ayes and Lusi walked across the campus, discussing a group project.
"You're always so calm, even when everyone else is panicking," Lusi said, glancing at him.
"Calmness is a survival skill," Ayes replied, his eyes scanning the crowd absentmindedly.
She nudged him playfully. "You're hiding something, aren't you?"
He smiled faintly. "Perhaps. But some things are better discovered in time."
Their laughter echoed across the courtyard, light and easy, a stark contrast to the cosmic chaos about to unfold.
---
Ayes spent his afternoon at his internship in a modern office, surrounded by buzzing computers and murmuring coworkers.
"Gebra, the reports are due by five," his supervisor reminded him.
"I've already completed the draft," Ayes replied calmly, sliding it across the desk. His efficiency and precision always impressed colleagues.
A minor argument erupted over scheduling, but Ayes resolved it with logic and patience. He was respected, even if some found his quiet demeanor intimidating.
By the end of the day, he returned home, exhausted but content.
Dinner was warm and lively. His parents laughed at minor jokes, his sister recounted her day with enthusiasm, and Ayes felt a familiar warmth.
"Your father and I worry about you sometimes," his mother said softly, reaching over to brush a strand of hair from his forehead. "Life moves fast, but don't forget your family."
"I know, Mom," Ayes replied. The love in the room grounded him. Ordinary, peaceful, and perfect.
But even in this comfort, the sky outside hinted at something unusual—a faint violet shimmer, like ripples in the heavens.
As night fell, Ayes sat at his desk, completing his final tasks. The aurora above grew brighter, unnatural. The wind whispered strangely, rustling leaves in patterns that made his instincts flare.
"Odd," he murmured. Something was off.
Then the air vibrated violently.
Suddenly, Ayes's phone rang. It was his supervisor. He was called for an important file. Ayes said, "The weather is very bad now, there is a possibility of a storm."
From the other side, his supervisor said, "What are you trying to do to harm the company? Come to my house as soon as possible."
Ayes didn't say anything else. So he started searching for the file. After a while, he found the file. Ayes came out of his room. In the living room, he saw her younger sister cutting paper for a college project, his mother reading a book and father doing his office work. Just like a normal family.
He took the car keys from the drawer. His mother asked, "Where are you going so late at night?" He said, "To deliver a file." "Be careful, the weather is not good outside." He replied calmly, "Okay."
In 11.20 pm
Ayes left the house with the keys. He got into the black car, leaving the file on the seat next to his .
The night had a strange weight to it, the kind that made even the quiet hum of Ayes Gebra's car feel louder than usual. As he drove along the dimly lit road, he glanced up through the windshield and noticed something unusual spreading across the sky. It wasn't the normal darkness of night nor the gentle silver glow of moonlight. Instead, streaks of violet and deep blue shimmered like ripples of energy, almost as if the sky had become a giant curtain of cosmic light.
Ayes blinked twice, wondering if his eyes were just tired from a long day at the office. But the colors didn't fade. If anything, they grew stronger—moving slowly, swirling like galaxies being drawn across the heavens. The air around him seemed to vibrate with a faint static that made the hairs on his arms lift, even though he was inside the car with the windows rolled up.
The radio crackled suddenly, breaking the steady rhythm of the engine. Ayes frowned and tapped the dashboard. "Not now…" he muttered. But the signal only grew worse, shifting between bursts of static and broken pieces of music. It was as if something unseen was interfering with all the electronics around him.
Outside, the atmosphere thickened. A cool wind swept across the street, carrying an unnatural scent—sharp, metallic, and strangely cold. The first symptoms of a storm were forming, but unlike any storm Ayes had experienced. The clouds overhead were not gray; they were streaked with pulsating purple, glowing faintly as if illuminated from within. Lightning flickered across them—but the lightning wasn't white. It flashed bluish-silver, silent and eerie.
Ayes slowed the car, gripping the steering wheel. "What kind of weather is this…?" he whispered to himself. His chest tightened slightly—not in fear, but in confusion. The forecast earlier had mentioned clear skies. No rain. No storms. No cosmic-colored clouds threatening to swallow the horizon.
The road ahead dimmed, not because the headlights weakened, but because the strange clouds were descending lower, covering the sky like a giant dome. The wind picked up again, stronger this time, rattling street signs and sending dry leaves skittering across the asphalt. Far in the distance, thunder rumbled—not the booming sound he knew, but something deeper, like a vibration running underground.
His phone buzzed in the seat beside him, but the screen flashed random symbols instead of notifications. Even the GPS lost signal, the map freezing mid-route.
Ayes felt something shift in the air, as if the entire world was inhaling and holding its breath.
The storm was coming—but this was no ordinary storm.
It was the beginning of something far bigger.
.....
Despite the unsettling colors twisting through the sky and the growing wind rattling every signpost along the road, Ayes Gebra pushed forward. The storm-like phenomenon kept intensifying, but strangely, it never crossed a certain line—almost as if it were watching him rather than trying to stop him. He tightened his grip on the steering wheel and focused on the headlights cutting through the vibrating air ahead.
The city streets looked different than usual. Streetlamps flickered, their glow unstable, bending as if affected by some unseen magnetic pull. Cars parked along the sidewalks had alarm systems that beeped randomly, reacting to the strange static in the atmosphere. Even the glass windows of shops trembled faintly, reflecting the swirling cosmic sky above in warped, distorted colors.
Ayes exhaled slowly when he finally turned into the underground parking of his office building. For a moment, as he drove down the ramp, the world returned to normal—no trembling air, no flickering lights, no cosmic glow. The enclosed space felt like stepping out of a dream.
He parked carefully, grabbed the sealed file folder from the passenger seat, and stepped out of the car. The air inside the underground lot was warm and still, almost comforting after the surreal chaos outside. His footsteps echoed as he approached the elevator.
When he entered the building, everything seemed surprisingly normal. The lobby lights were bright and stable, the security guard nodded at him like every other night shift, and the large glass doors behind him muted the constant rumble of the strange sky.
Ayes took the elevator to the seventh floor. The ride was smooth, though the lights flickered once—just enough to remind him that whatever was happening outside hadn't completely disappeared.
When the elevator opened, he walked down the familiar corridor lined with gray carpet and frosted glass office doors. His supervisor, Mr. Harim, was still in his office—working late as usual. The light under the door was steady, and Ayes could see his silhouette reviewing documents.
He knocked lightly.
"Come in," his supervisor called without looking up.
Ayes stepped inside and placed the folder on the desk. "Sir, these are the files you asked for—the final versions. I made sure all corrections were included."
Mr. Harim finally lifted his head. "Good. I knew I could count on you." He opened the folder briefly, checking the top page. "You came through all that weather for this? The sky looks like something out of a sci-fi movie."
"I noticed," Ayes replied, trying to sound calm even though his mind was still replaying the shimmering lights. "But it wasn't too bad."
His supervisor leaned back. "Strange night. Something feels off."
Ayes nodded, feeling the same unease settle deep inside him.
He turned to leave, unaware that this would be the last normal conversation he ever had in that world.
Ayes Gebra stepped out of his supervisor's office with a soft exhale, feeling the tension in his shoulders loosen. The building around him hummed with the quiet stillness of late night, the kind that made footsteps echo too loudly and shadows stretch a little too far. After a long day and an even stranger evening, he was ready to go home, rest, and forget the cosmic-colored storm that hovered over the city.
He walked down the corridor, pressed the elevator button, and waited as the doors slid open with a gentle chime. The ride to the underground parking was silent. The only sound was the soft mechanical hum of the elevator machinery. When the doors opened, he stepped out into the stillness of the nearly empty parking garage. His car, still carrying the dust of the swirling storm, waited under a dim overhead light.
He unlocked it, tossed his bag into the passenger seat, and slipped behind the wheel. As soon as the engine rumbled awake, he felt a tiny flare of relief. Everything seemed normal inside the car—no flickering lights, no trembling air—just the low buzz of the AC struggling to push cool air into the cabin.
He pulled out of the parking space and headed up the ramp toward the exit.
The moment he emerged onto the street, the strange sky greeted him again.
It was darker now. Not with clouds, but with something much more unusual—a faint shimmer spread across the sky like liquid glass. Colors flickered inside it, purple and silver patterns spreading outward like veins of light. The entire atmosphere looked like it had been touched by something not of the Earth.
The storm hadn't passed.
It had only grown quieter… and heavier.
Still, Ayes continued driving. The roads weren't empty, but there were far fewer cars than usual. Most people had rushed home early, or stayed indoors, afraid of the strange phenomenon overhead.
As he drove through the quiet streets, the buildings around him reflected the cosmic hue, their glass surfaces shimmering faintly. Traffic lights seemed softer, streetlamps dimmer, as though the world itself was conserving power for something unseen.
The radio crackled with static the moment he tried to turn it on. He shut it off immediately.
He didn't want anything adding to the unnerving silence.
Ayes turned onto a wider road, heading toward the district where he lived. Everything was quiet—too quiet. He tightened his grip on the steering wheel as a gust of wind swept across the road. Dust swirled around, illuminated by his headlights.
Then it happened.
His car jerked once, violently.
The dashboard lights flickered.
The engine sputtered.
"What the—?"
Before he could finish the sentence, the engine gave a loud cough and died completely.
He pressed the ignition again.
Nothing.
The car remained utterly dead, as if someone had cut all power in a single instant.
The air grew strangely cold.
Ayes tried again—still nothing. Then the lights on the dashboard blinked one last time before turning black.
He exhaled in frustration and leaned back in his seat. "Not now… why now?"
He looked around. The street was almost empty—just rows of buildings, some with lights still on, most already dark. Far ahead, the traffic signal flickered weakly before returning to a dull red glow.
He pressed every button he could think of—the hazard lights, the ignition, even the door lock.
Nothing responded.
It wasn't normal. Cars didn't just die completely unless the battery was gone, but his battery had been perfectly fine earlier. And even then, the lights shouldn't fail this suddenly.
Something else was affecting it.
The storm?
The strange cosmic pressure in the air?
The shimmering sky that looked more like space than atmosphere?
He didn't know.
He opened the door and stepped out, the night air brushing against him with a strange metallic chill. He fished out his phone—no signal. Not even a weak one. Only a flat, dead "No Service" symbol.
The city wasn't supposed to lose signal like this.
He closed the car door and looked down the road. A small bus station sat at the next intersection, its roof casting a long shadow on the pavement. A lit digital board flickered, showing upcoming routes—though the words glitched constantly.
If he walked, it would take him at least an hour to reach home.
If he waited, maybe public transport would still be running.
He chose to head for the bus station.
His footsteps echoed faintly as he approached. The digital clock on the board was stuck flickering between "23:59" and "00:00," unable to decide what time it was. He checked his own watch.
12:00 AM.
Exactly midnight.
Only seven minutes had passed since he left the office? No—it felt longer. Something about the night seemed to stretch time itself.
Ayes sat down on the bench, the cool metal pressing through his clothes. The street was quiet except for the soft rustle of wind carrying dust and stray leaves. The cosmic glow in the sky deepened, casting faint purple reflections on the pavement.
He rubbed his hands together, trying to distract himself from the growing unease in his stomach. The bus station lights flickered once… twice… then steadied again.
He waited.
Five minutes passed.
Six minutes.
Seven.
A low rumble reached his ears—not thunder, but the distant growl of an engine. He turned his head.
A bus appeared from the far end of the road, its headlights bright but slightly distorted by the shimmering sky. It moved steadily, almost too steadily, as if unaffected by whatever strange force had crippled his car.
As the bus got closer, he could finally read its sign:
---
MIDNIGHT ROUTE — SPECIAL SERVICE
---
He frowned. He had never seen this route before.
But at this hour, and with his own car dead on the road… he didn't have a choice.
The bus slowed to a stop in front of him with a hiss of brakes. The door folded open. The interior lights glowed a soft bluish-white, strangely gentle compared to the harsh fluorescent lighting most buses used.
The driver was an older man with a calm expression, hands resting on the steering wheel. He didn't say anything—just nodded once.
Ayes stepped inside.
The moment his foot touched the bus floor, a faint pressure pressed against his spine—just for a second and then gone. He brushed it off. Maybe fatigue. Maybe nerves.
He took a seat halfway down the aisle.
There were other passengers—some awake, some dozing, some staring quietly out the windows at the cosmic storm outside. No one spoke. No one asked questions.
It felt like everyone here shared the same unspoken understanding:
Something was happening to the world.
Ayes sat down, resting his bag beside him, and the bus doors closed with a soft thud. The engine hummed steadily—far steadier than any machine had a right to be on a night like this.
In the faint reflection of the window beside him, Ayes saw the shimmering sky twist again.
Purple.
Silver.
Black.
A faint spiral formed overhead like a silent, cosmic vortex.
The bus pulled away from the station.
And Ayes didn't know yet…
He had just boarded the last vehicle he would ever ride in this world.
The bus rolled forward smoothly, its engine humming with a steady rhythm that contrasted sharply with the uneasy atmosphere outside. Ayes leaned back into his seat and let the faint vibration of the floorboards settle his nerves. The interior lights flickered only once—barely noticeable—before stabilizing to a calm, bluish-white glow.
Passengers sat in stiff silence. Most avoided looking directly out the windows, as if afraid the strange sky might stare back.
A soft chime broke the quiet.
A phone began to ring.
Not loudly, but clearly enough that every head in the bus turned. The sound cut through the stillness like a ripple breaking the surface of a perfectly still lake.
A young boy sitting across the ayes fumbled in his coat pocket and pulled out his phone. The screen glowed brightly in the dim interior. He pressed it to his ear and spoke in a cautious voice.
"Hello…?"
There was a pause.
A long pause.
Then the boy's eyebrows rose in surprise. His shoulders stiffened as though someone had just called him by a childhood nickname.
Ayes watched closely. Something about the way the boy froze made him uneasy.
Ayes's heart jumped.
Kai?
He leaned forward slightly, trying not to look too obvious. Kai was his close friend from childhood —someone who didn't call random people. Someone who definitely should not be reaching strangers' phones in the middle of a citywide blackout.But after a year in universityhe had separated from ayes.
The boy nodded to whatever he heard on the other end.
But suddenly, he stopped talking.
His voice faded.
His expression changed—first confusion, then a sort of realization, then something else Ayes couldn't quite name.
Then the call cut off.
The boy lowered the phone slowly, staring at the screen as though it had just turned into something unfamiliar. He turned it around to check the signal. The words "Network Error" flashed on the display.
Before Ayes could lean over and ask, something else happened.
Everyone's phone began vibrating at the same time.
It started with one faint buzz… then dozens.
The sound filled the bus like a swarm of mechanical insects.
A few passengers gasped. Others exchanged nervous glances. Some fumbled to check their phones.
Ayes reached for his own phone and unlocked it.
A notification flashed across the top of the screen.
---
EMERGENCY ALERT
Government Broadcast System
---
His breath caught in his throat.
The entire bus was silent as people read simultaneously. Some whispered under their breath. Others sat frozen with the screen reflected in their wide eyes.
Ayes tapped the message. It opened slowly, the screen flickering once due to poor signal.
The alert displayed only three lines:
---
Unusual atmospheric disturbance detected.
Stay indoors and away from open areas.
Further information pending.
---
That was it.
No explanation.
No instructions.
No reassurance.
Just a warning.
A young woman toward the back of the bus let out a shaky laugh. "Stay indoors? At this hour? In the middle of the city? Really?"
Her voice trembled even though she tried to act calm.
But before anyone could respond, the bus suddenly lurched slightly—not from the brakes, but from something outside.
A low rumble echoed across the sky.
Not thunder.
Not an airplane.
Something different, as if the air itself growled.
Ayes turned his head toward the window.
Lightning began to crackle in the clouds.
But it wasn't normal lightning.
The sky flickered with lines of violet and blue, tracing patterns like giant, glowing fissures. Each bolt spread silently through the atmosphere, curving unnaturally, like living things.
The cosmic colors thickened, spreading across the sky like ink spilled in water.
A soft murmur filled the bus as passengers gasped or muttered in fear.
"What is happening?" someone whispered.
"Is this… normal?" another muttered, clenching their seat.
The bus driver kept his eyes on the road, gripping the steering wheel tightly. For the first time since Ayes stepped on the bus, the man looked tense.
Then—
BOOM!
A flash of light exploded in the sky.
Not near the bus—far, far above. Yet the entire road lit up brighter than daytime for a brief moment.
The bus windows shook.
The light was blinding yet eerily silent.
People shielded their eyes. Some ducked instinctively. A child whimpered, and a woman wrapped her arms around him protectively.
Ayes's heart pounded against his ribs.
He had never seen lightning behave like this.
It didn't just strike—it blossomed, like glowing flowers spreading across the clouds.
And then—
All the streetlights went out.
Every single one.
One moment the road was lit by rows of tall lamps; the next, the world was swallowed by darkness.
Only the bus headlights remained.
The buildings around them turned into looming silhouettes. The glow of the cosmic sky reflected faintly off the glass windows.
Inside the bus, the lights flickered again—twice—before settling into a faint glow.
Passengers clutched their phones like lifelines, turning on their flashlights. White cones of light pierced the dim interior.
Outside, the storm grew stronger.
Wind howled with sudden force, slamming against the bus like invisible hands trying to push it off the road. The vehicle shook slightly. The driver slowed down but didn't stop.
The cosmic lightning continued to crawl across the sky, splitting into thinner strands like glowing cracks in a giant dome.
"What is that?" someone cried.
"It's not lightning," another whispered. "Lightning doesn't move sideways like that…"
Ayes pressed closer to the window.
His phone vibrated again.
Another government alert.
He opened it with trembling fingers.
---
EMERGENCY LEVEL: RED
Atmospheric breach detected.
Seek immediate shelter.
Avoid visibility to open sky.
---
Ayes read the message twice.
Atmospheric… breach?
What did that even mean?
He looked around nervously. The bus was surrounded by open windows and large glass panes. There was no shelter except the vehicle itself.
The passengers' expressions grew more fearful. Some murmured prayers. Others tried calling loved ones but received no signal.
The wind outside grew violently stronger, whirling dust along the road. The cosmic glow above intensified.
And then—
An explosion.
Not directly near them, but far enough away that the shock reached them seconds later.
A blinding burst of purple-white light erupted somewhere in the distance—as if a star had detonated above the city's rooftops. The brightness flashed across the bus windows like a tidal wave of radiance.
The ground trembled.
The wind roared louder.
A deep, resonating sound followed—like something enormous tearing through the atmosphere.
A woman screamed.
Someone else shouted for the bus driver to stop.
But the driver kept going, gripping the wheel with both hands, sweat dripping down his brow.
The light faded.
But the sky did not return to normal.
Instead, a swirling pattern appeared overhead—slowly rotating, expanding, glowing with a strange, unnatural color. The cosmic threads of lightning fed into the formation like energy streams.
A massive vortex.
A cosmic spiral.
It hovered high above the city, like an eye opening in the heavens.
Ayes stared at it, unable to look away. His throat felt dry. His hands trembled around his phone.
The explosion had triggered something.
Something big.
Something beyond human understanding.
The bus continued forward toward the unknown.
And Ayes realized something with chilling clarity:
This wasn't just a storm.
This was the beginning of something far larger—something that had no name yet in his world..
.....