The sky did not explode.
It did not burn.
It simply shivered, as if the entire atmosphere felt a sudden cold fear.
Kael noticed it first as a vibration crawling under his skin.
A strange hum rolled through the street, soft at the start, like the echo of a distant generator. But then it thickened, vibrating the air, the windows, even the bones in his chest.
People around him slowed their steps.
A woman looked up.
A delivery bike skidded to a stop.
Everyone sensed something was wrong, but nobody had the words for it.
The sky changed color.
Not red or blue.
Not anything a human eye should recognize.
It became every color that could exist, and many that should not.
Then the world split.
Not open.
Not apart.
Sideways, like a reflection breaking inside a mirror.
Kael froze.
In front of him, the street existed in three versions at once.
In the first version, a bus was racing toward him with its horn screaming.
In the second, the street was totally empty.
In the third, the pavement was cracked and smoking, as if something enormous had struck it minutes earlier.
He felt all three possibilities dragging at his body.
His heart thumped.
Everything went dark for half a second.
A whisper crept behind his ear.
ARCHIVE PROTOCOL INITIALIZED
Kael spun around, but no one was there.
Only the air, vibrating like it hid something alive.
Another whisper slid through his skull, colder this time.
You are misaligned.
Suddenly the three versions of the street slammed back together.
The bus passed directly through Kael. Not around him. Not stopping.
Through him, as if he was not solid for a single impossible instant.
The crowd gasped in horror.
Kael staggered backward.
His body felt heavy and light at once, like he existed in two different places.
A pulse of pale light burst from his chest.
ANNOTATION ACQUIRED: CHRONO REFUSAL
His breath caught.
Something inside him had rejected his death.
Something had said no.
The ground shook.
A tear formed beside him.
Not in the sky.
Not in the air.
A tear in possibility itself.
The Rift glowed, humming like a broken lullaby.
Inside it, Kael saw something that made his stomach twist.
He saw himself.
A version of himself lying dead on the road, crushed beneath the bus.
Kael's legs almost gave out.
The Rift pulsed, beckoning him.
Calling.
Around him, chaos erupted.
Another Rift opened above a building.
Then another.
Then dozens.
People vanished mid scream.
Buildings flickered between shapes, as if the world could not decide which version was real.
Kael could not look away from the Rift showing his dead body.
The whisper returned, closer than before.
Choose your truth.
The Rift widened.
And Kael stepped toward the version of himself that had died.