The sky didn’t break like glass.
It peeled.
A thin line appeared first—barely visible, like a scratch against the pale expanse above them. Then it widened, stretching unevenly, as if something on the other side was pressing its fingers into reality and pulling it apart.
Emily’s breath caught.
“…No,” she whispered.
The line grew longer.
Thicker.
The air around it warped, bending inward, distorting light and distance in a way that made her stomach twist.
Kael stepped back once.
Just once.
But that was enough.
“…That’s not supposed to happen,” she said quietly.
Theodore didn’t move.
Didn’t look away.
His voice dropped.
“It is responding.”
Emily swallowed hard. “Responding to what?”
The crack widened.
A low, resonant sound began to seep through it—not quite a voice, not quite
