The gray sky over the church twisted further, black streaks tearing through it like jagged knives. The air smelled of ozone and burning earth, and a low hum thrummed in every bone of the small town. Buildings shivered, streetlights bent like molten candles, and even the trees seemed to bow away from the unseen force above.Lilith clutched Kaleb’s arm, her knuckles white, eyes darting across the warped church interior. The fissure that had opened into the liminal layer pulsed with energy, throwing streaks of pale light across the room. “It’s not just the fracture anymore,” she whispered. “It’s coming through… physically.”Kaleb’s grip tightened around her. “Then we have to hold him. He can’t fall — not now. Not ever.”Outside, shadows moved with intent. They weren’t random yet. Each one had purpose, flowing as if directed by a mind far older than humanity. A group of them emerged from the blackened sky, limbs bending unnaturally, faces obscured by inky voids, descending upon the street

The world split with a sound that wasn’t sound at all.It was a pressure, a tone beneath consciousness, something that made blood thicken and bones feel suddenly too old for the bodies they supported. Lilith choked on air that vibrated with panic. Kaleb staggered beside her, unable to steady himself as gravity slanted sideways like a tilting floor.And above them—Adam hovered, glowing with a blinding, unnatural brilliance.He didn’t move.He didn’t breathe.He didn’t blink.But he smiled.A slow, drawn-out smile, thin and wrong and too calm for the apocalypse unraveling around him.Lilith felt her throat close.“That’s… not him,” she whispered.Kaleb didn’t answer. He couldn’t. His eyes were locked on Adam’s figure—on the way the light inside him flickered not like a flame, but like a projector stuttering through images too quickly to process.Behind Adam, the breach had widened to the size of a two-story building. The jagged fingertip that had pushed through moments earlier had retr

The street beneath them no longer resembled a street. It was a scar of asphalt and broken concrete, punctuated by jagged pillars of steel and glass that twisted toward the sky like the spines of monstrous creatures. The gray clouds above churned violently, streaked with the deep crimson glow from the breach behind Adam. Every pulse of light sent a shudder through the warped cityscape, every vibration rippling into Lilith and Kaleb’s bones.Lilith’s gaze darted between Adam and the looming figure that had emerged from the fog. It didn’t have a face, at least not one the mind could process. Its form flickered, a mass of angles and shadows that suggested limbs, but not limbs that obeyed the rules of physics. Every step it took warped the street around it, bending space with the casual inevitability of a predator approaching prey.Kaleb gripped her hand tightly, his knuckles white. “We’re… we’re not going to survive this, are we?”Lilith’s lips pressed together. “We have to. Adam is holdi

The moment the shadow in the sky shifted, reality flinched.Lilith felt it first — not in her skin, not in her lungs, but deep in the part of her mind that understood fear older than civilization. The air around her thickened, pressing down like a giant hand. The world dimmed, color bleeding into grayscale, as though someone were draining the last traces of humanity from existence.Kaleb staggered beside her, gasping. “Lilith—what is that? Who is that?”She didn’t answer. She couldn’t. Her throat felt locked shut, her voice lost in the pressure that ground against her thoughts. Above them, the sky peeled open, a rippling ellipse of pale red and aching black. Through it, something enormous shifted — a silhouette with no clear form, as if made from absence itself.The entity watching them from above finally moved… and the world reacted.The buildings on either side of the fractured street bent backward like softened metal. Windows dissolved. Steel melted. Asphalt heaved. Gravity twisted

The air still hummed where Adam had stood.Lilith didn’t move. Couldn’t. Her eyes locked on the space he had flickered in — a smear of after-image frozen in her vision like a burn. One moment he had been real, solid, bleeding and breathing; the next he had begun stuttering in and out, like a corrupted video frame caught between worlds. His outline had fractured, ribs of pale light jutting out, and then—Nothing.The breach sealed with a low, wet whisper.Kaleb touched her shoulder, hesitant. “Lilith… he’s gone.”“He’s not.” Her voice cracked on the last word but didn’t break. “He can’t be.”The grass around them was trembling, bowing as if something massive had just passed through it. A deep vibration ran through the ground, up her legs, into her lungs.Kaleb felt it too. “The entity’s still here. It didn’t just take Adam — it used him to anchor itself.”The church behind them flickered — its walls glitching into gray mist for a heartbeat before snapping back. The steeple twisted into