The sky broke without warning. It did not crack like thunder. It did not roar like war. It folded inward, slow and heavy, as if the clouds were being pulled by invisible hands. Red light leaked through the folds, thin at first, then wide, then blinding.Jonah felt it before he saw it. The hum inside his bones twisted. The breath he shared with the towers stumbled. His knees bent. His hand went to his chest. “No,” he whispered. “Not like this.”Around him, New Crest froze in confusion. People looked up. Machines stuttered. Lights flickered between blue and red, as if unsure which side to obey.Then the lightning fell. It was red, but not fire. It was blue, but not calm. It was both at once. It struck the spiral plain first, splitting the ground in long glowing scars. The towers groaned. Blue towers bent like trees in wind. Red towers pulsed and swelled, hungry and loud.The hum screamed. Jonah dropped to one knee. Lisa was not there. Kevin was not there. He was alone with the sound o

The city felt smaller without Lisa. Kevin felt it the moment he woke up. The hum was still there, soft and steady, but something was missing inside it. The warmth that used to sit behind the sound was gone. It felt hollow now, like a breath that reached the lungs but never filled them.Kevin sat up on his thin mattress and pressed his hand to his chest. The sphere was gone. Echo was gone. Only dust remained on the shelf beside his bed, still glowing faintly like memory that refused to fade. “Lisa,” he whispered.No answer came. Only the distant sound of machines waking across New Crest. Metal shifting. Towers adjusting. Systems rebooting after the storm of red lightning from the night before.Outside, the city groaned. Kevin slid off the bed and pulled on his jacket. It was too big for him, sleeves covering his hands, but Lisa had given it to him once and said it made him look brave. He believed her.He stepped into the hallway. People were already moving fast, faces tight with fea

The air between Jonah and Serra began to shake. It was not wind. It was not sound.It was something deeper, like the world holding its breath and forgetting how to release it.Jonah stood in the open ground between the city and the plains. The towers behind him glowed soft blue, bending like tall grass under pressure. The red tower far away pulsed slow and heavy, like a heart that did not belong to the body.Serra stood across from him. Her armor was no longer just metal. Blue veins ran along one arm. Red veins crawled across the other. They met at her chest and fought there, pulsing in opposite rhythms. Her helmet was open. Her face was pale and sharp, her eyes bright with belief and pain.Behind her, rows of soldiers stood frozen. Their eyes glowed red. Their weapons hummed low. They did not breathe like normal people. They breathed in time with the red tower.Jonah raised his hands slowly. “Serra,” he said. His voice was calm, but it hurt to speak. Each word pulled light from his c

The ground shook before anyone saw it move. At first, the people of New Crest thought it was another aftershock from the storms. Buildings rattled. Loose glass chimed like soft bells. Dust fell from broken roofs. Children cried and adults grabbed walls and door frames. Then the hum changed.It was no longer a song. It was a drag. A deep sound, slow and heavy, like something enormous pulling itself across stone.Jonah stood on the outer platform of the blue tower ring. His feet were bare against the cool surface. His veins glowed faint gold under his skin. He felt the change before he saw it. “It’s moving,” he whispered.Kevin stood a few steps behind him, holding the data mirror with both hands. The mirror trembled, light rippling across its surface like disturbed water.“The red signal is shifting,” Kevin said. His voice shook, but he did not look away. “It’s not just broadcasting anymore.”Lisa was not there. The empty space beside Jonah felt louder than the noise of the city.Jona

The pressure came without warning. Jonah was standing in the command hall when it hit him. Screens glowed around the room. Blue lines moved across maps. Voices spoke in calm tones about shield alignment and tower response. None of it mattered.The pressure was not sound. It was not data. It was not pain. It was a weight behind his sternum, deep inside, like a memory trying to claw its way out of his chest.Jonah stiffened. His breath caught.“Jonah?” someone asked.He did not answer. The pressure tightened. It pulsed once, slow and heavy, like a heart that was not his own.Lisa. Her name left his mouth before he knew he was speaking. It was soft. Almost a whisper. But the room went quiet.Lisa. The screens showed nothing wrong. The red storm still churned far from the city. The towers held their lines. No alarms sounded.But Jonah knew. He pressed a hand to his chest. The pressure twisted, sharp now, urgent. It was not fear. It was not logic. It was her. “She’s in trouble,” Jonah sai