The rift bled light, red and writhing like muscle torn across the sky.
Jack’s breath caught. “No… not again.”
Wind howled through the rubble of Harmonfield, dragging ash in frantic spirals. The others stood motionless, watching the scar above the horizon pulse like a heartbeat.
Angela stepped forward. “That’s not just a rift. It’s… pulling.”
They all felt it—a slow, irresistible tug behind their ribs. Like gravity being rewritten.
Ryan’s voice broke. “The Void’s not gone.”
Patricia flinched. “But Emily—she sealed it. She gave everything.”
Jack turned back toward the sinkhole. The ash had shifted.
It wasn’t just ash anymore.
It was her.
A silhouette, crouched in the ruins. Hands clawed into the stone, shoulders rising and falling with ragged breath. Fire still flickered at the edg
