Eclipse Harvest

Cyrus Woods wiped sweat from his forehead and stared at the cracked windshield of his old scout truck.

The sun beat down hard on the dry road outside New Phoenix, turning everything into a shimmering haze. It was just another supply run,nothing special.

Pick up fuel cells from the outpost, drop off spare parts, head back before dark, very simple.

He was thirty-five, built like someone who spent too many years carrying heavy gear and fighting things that wanted him dead. Short black hair, a scar running down his left cheek from an old blade fight, and eyes that didn’t trust easily.

People called him Woods because he preferred the open land to city walls, cities made him feel trapped.

The radio crackled. “Woods, you copy? This is Base Three, Over.”

Cyrus grabbed the mic. “Yeah, Base, I’m ten minutes out from the depot.... What’s up?”

The voice cut out for a second, then came back tight.

“Sky’s acting weird. Sensors picked up something big moving toward the sun, command says stay low, don’t look up too long, Just get the load and come home.” Cyrus frowned.

“Comets again?”

“Worse…this looks like a whole swarm, Not normal. Just… be careful.”

He hung the mic back and glanced at the sky through the dusty glass. Blue as always, but now there were thin white streaks high up, like someone scratched the sky with a knife, he shook his head, probably nothing, besides the world had seen worse.

He drove on.

The road was empty except for a few rusted wrecks half-buried in sand, New Phoenix was one of the last big safe zones left after the old wars–tall walls, solar farms, water recyclers.

Outside the walls, it was dust, mutants, and raiders, Cyrus knew every shortcut, every hideout, that’s why they sent him, fifteen minutes later he rolled into Depot 7.

Though a small place, it consists of three metal buildings, a landing pad for drones, and a chain-link fence that didn’t stop much.

Two guards waved him through, One was new, young, nervous, and the other was Riley, a guy Cyrus had known for years.

“Woods!” Riley called, slapping the truck door. “You’re late, thought you got eaten by sand worms.”

“Traffic,” Cyrus said dryly.

He climbed out, boots hitting gravel. “Load ready?”

“Almost, they’re finishing the last crate, coffee’s hot inside if you want.” Cyrus nodded.

He didn’t want coffee, he wanted to finish and leave, something felt off today, The air tasted acrid, like right before a big storm.

Inside the main building, workers moved fast, crates of fuel cells stacked high.

A woman in a gray jumpsuit—Carrie Thompson, the depot’s head engineer, looked up from her tablet.

“Woods,” she called out his name.

She was twenty-eight, sharp eyes, short brown hair tied back, always covered in grease, The smartest person Cyrus knew who didn’t act like it.

“Carrie, everything’s good?”

She shrugged. “The power grid flickered twice this morning, Solar arrays are reading strange spikes, Like the sun’s… breathing or something.”

Cyrus raised an eyebrow. “Breathing?”

"Bad joke, but the readings don’t lie, something’s messing with the magnetic field.”

Before he could answer, the ground shook, though not hard, just enough to rattle tools on the table.

Everyone froze.

Then the lights flickered.

Someone yelled, “Look outside!”

Cyrus pushed through the door first, the sky wasn’t blue anymore, high above, the sun looked wrong.

A dark spot grew in the center, spreading like ink in water, around it, bright lines shot out—comet tails, hundreds of them, all aimed at the same place.

The streaks he saw earlier weren’t random, they were falling straight toward the sun.

The radio in the truck blared emergency tone.

“All units, this is Central Command, Solar anomaly confirmed, multiple objects impacting the solar surface, expect electrical surge level discharge in….”

The voice cut off, a harsh crackle filled the comms.

Cyrus felt it before he saw it, a pressure in his chest, like the air got heavy.

Then light exploded from the sun, it's white, blinding, brighter than anything he’d ever seen.

People screamed, some dropped to their knees, hands over eyes, Cyrus turned away, but the afterimage burned into his brain.

When he looked back, the sky was full of shadows.

Huge shapes dropped from space, not ships, not exactly, they looked like black knives, long and sharp, edges flickering like bad holograms.

Dozens, hundreds?, can't count, it's too many, they moved too fast, too slithering.

One passed low over the depot, the shadow it cast made everything cold.

Cyrus’s skin prickled, then it fired.

A thin purple beam shot down and hit the landing pad, the concrete exploded in a shower of sparks and dust.

Two drones on the pad vanished in a flash....then Gone, no wreckage, no smoke...Just gone.

Riley shouted, “Get to cover!”

Cyrus ran for the truck, the workers scattered, Carrie was already moving, grabbing a toolkit and sprinting toward the generator shed.

Another beam hit the main building, metal screamed as it tore open like paper, people inside didn’t even have time to scream.

Cyrus reached the truck, jumped in, turned the key, the engine coughed but started, he floored it toward the gate.

Behind him, the sky kept cracking, more shadows fell, one hovered over the depot now, huge, blocking the sun, from its belly, smaller shapes dropped—drones, insect-like, legs clicking as they landed.

They didn’t attack right away, they scanned, red lights swept the ground, locking on people.

Cyrus saw one lock on Riley.

Riley raised his rifle, fired, bullets sparked off the thing’s shell, It didn’t flinch, a thin needle shot out from its head and hit Riley in the chest.

Riley froze.

His eyes went wide, then blank, he dropped the rifle, his body jerked once, twice, then stood straight again like a puppet.

The red light blinked green.

Riley turned toward Cyrus’s truck and started walking toward it, steady and wrong, Cyrus cursed and swerved around a wrecked car, he hit the gate at full speed, chain-link snapped.

He was out.

In the rearview mirror, the depot burned, shadows covered the sky, the sun looked sick, dark patches spreading across its face.

He drove hard for ten minutes before the first real pain hit, his head throbbed, vision blurred. Memories flashed, he saw things that hadn’t happened yet.

He saw the truck hit a rock, flip, and explode, he saw himself crawl out burning, then die under a drone’s beam, then it stopped.

He blinked, the road was clear ahead, there is no rock, no flip, but he remembered it, Clear as day.

“What the hell…” he muttered.

Then the sky lit up again, a massive pulse rolled out from the sun, Invisible, but Cyrus felt it in his bones, the truck’s engine died, lights went dark, and everything else went quiet.

He coasted to a stop on the empty road....silence.

Then the world restarted, he heard first his own breathing, loud in his ears, then birds…then wind.

He looked at his watch, it’s 14:32, but he remembered checking it five minutes ago, it was at 14:37.

Time had jumped backward.

He stared at the dashboard clock, It blinked 14:32 again, his hands shook.

In the distance, he saw the depot again… Intact, no smoke and no shadows.

The same guards waved him through the gate, Riley slapped the truck door. “Woods! You’re late. Thought you got eaten by sand worms.”

Cyrus stared at him, Riley was alive, he is not a puppet and not dead.

Cyrus’s mouth went dry, he looked up, the sky was blue again but high up, thin white streaks scratched across it, just like before.

He gripped the wheel so hard his knuckles turned white.

This wasn’t a dream, this was real, and it was happening again.