Clouds burned red like a cauterized wound, and high above, something had torn a jagged scar into the heavens. It didn't move. Didn't heal. Just hovered there, a rift in the atmosphere, flickering with barely-contained power.
Thunder rumbled in the distance. Not loud. Not close. But deep — like a growl beneath the earth.
One woman dropped to her knees, gripping her coat around her shoulders. "This isn't what I thought it would be..."
"It's not supposed to be anything," Qingran said, stepping forward. "It's not a shelter. It's not safe. It's just not underwater."
She looked around. Some were sitting now, others pacing in numb silence.
"We can't stay here like this. We have to move and find shelter."
"Lingquan, tell me about this place, why the heck is there a rift in the sky?"
