Lio pressed his back against the cold concrete wall of the abandoned warehouse, his chest rising and falling in controlled breaths. The acrid smell of burnt metal and ozone filled his nostrils—a scent that had become all too familiar since the Silent Fissures began appearing across the city.
Through the cracked window above his head, he could see it.
The tear in reality hung suspended three meters above the warehouse floor, its edges rippling like water disturbed by an invisible hand. Unlike the other dimensional anomalies he'd encountered over the past week, this one was different. Smaller, more contained, but somehow... hungrier.
It called to him.
