"When the August Visitor comes, time itself holds its breath. The wise find shelter, but the Unbound walk out to listen." — Field Report 228: Temporal Rain Phenomena, Atlas Fringe
The New Facility existed within a faint corner of the universe, a surviving fragment of a relatively small galaxy, the Galaxy of Cornelius. The centre of the galaxy, encompassing almost half of it, remained under the New Facility's protection, while the rest had been consumed by the Vortex Frontier, the shifting dangerous environment that swallowed stars and left behind silence, and surrounding the New Facility. Within the remaining half though, twenty-two systems formed the Facility's structure, divided among four branches.
At the center of the New Facility stands the VFP Core, the command hub and research cradle of the Vortex Frontier Program. The Cadet Academy was also located on one of its planets. Around the VFP Core orbit the great sectors of various systems: the Sanctuary of Eve, the Rithm Fabrication Belt, and the Atlas Fringe Colonies, each bound to their own rulers and histories. Together, they formed the last thread of organized existence that humanity still called home.
After the first Vortex Incidence, time itself had long since fractured. Directions lost their meaning, stars no longer held their place, and the measure of a second stretched and folded depending on one's distance from the Vortex Frontier... or sudden unnatural interferences in rare cases. To restore order, the Triarch Council established the Facility Standard Chronometric Grid, the network that anchored local temporal stability, and allocated to each planet. Its creation marked the dawn of the Facility Standard Era, or FSE.
What humans called "3163 FSE" marked the 3,163rd calibration cycle since that grid began. Though still called "Year 3163", a single cycle measured neither day nor year, but the stable pulse of the Grid's quantum resonance, the artificial rhythm by which life still kept count. The true time was gone but yet, the New Facility endured by holding to this Grid pattern, the only one left.
But the years of calm never lasted long. The vortex storms kept returning, warping space, distorting sound, and had in the past swallowed entire sectors and factions without warning. Temporal distortions would not stop sweeping through planets like waves of unmaking. Even entire colonies had vanished into silence, and others resurfaced decades later, unchanged, as if time itself had skipped over them, or they were anchored through time. These strange occurrences, when they appeared first, were so dreadful and existentially oppressive, but the New Facility learned to survive inside this constant uncertainty by adapting, recalibrating, and pretending that natural and cosmic order still existed.
... Which explains that humans are the most adaptable species.
Now in the 3,163rd cycle, the temporal grid trembled again, this time more disturbing. Fluctuations spread from the outer belts toward the VFP Core, of which Unbound elites from the Factions had been suppressing. Anomalies had begun to synchronize, as if responding to a signal. And among them, one phenomenon stood apart... a rain that falls without season or origin, but bends gravity and fluctuates the entropy of time. The rain drops... or whatever they were, fall eerily from a different timeline, but do not affect matter and space. However, the impact could cause commotions in the flow of time. It could rewrite memories and skip time-frames. Even some temporal devices which were managed to be built against this anomaly lost their functionality, some permanently and some temporarily unrepairable. One can simply think of rainfall at a certain location, but yet it falls from a different timeline... like a weather forecast displaying that the day would be sunny, while rain would fall tomorrow, but strangely, the opposite happened. This time though, in the Galaxy of Cornelius, the temporal rains were not the usual rain drops that fall, but rather "energies", or what seemed like it. Prometheus, with all advanced techniques buffed from other Factions, had managed to make a close hypothesis of these eerily entities as "energies". Even the hypothesis was concluded after so many risks, loss of lives and loss of resources. These "energies" while falling, exude temperatures which were in stark contrast to the atmospheric temperature. The whole scene made it eerily one of the most dangerous anomalies the New Facility had encountered. At least luckily, this anomaly only lasted for a few seconds, or at most a minute.
... Though this time, it lasted more.
It always appeared before, but does so briefly and in certain planets, thus leaving its inhabitants morose and somber. But this time, it lasted a bit longer, and spread a bit wider.
This surreal event has a subordinate name.
It was known as August Visitor.
-----
The red light above the Cadet Academy planet was brimming and burning, trembling against the dark clouds that twisted like wounded metal. The vortex that radiated the red light pulsed again, slow and heavy, and each throb pushing a vibration through the courtyard floor until it climbed Bale's legs... and settled deep in his chest. The air around was thick and cold, filled with the metallic taste of ozone and iron.
Cadets were spilling into the courtyard from the main wings, their boots clattering against the steel tiles as confusion spread through, from Unfits to Pilots. Even some Instructos were seen communicating over neural comms. Voices overlapped in panic while the alarms rose and fell like a living thing. Someone shouted for command. Another shouted temporal storm.
Just then, an intercom crackled above them, breaking through the chaos with a stuttering voice.
"All divisions remain in quarters. This is not a drill. Repeat, not a drill."
'Was that a joke now or..?' Bale frowned upon hearing this. This was a somber moment and someone's up there cackling nonsense.
'Even some Instructors are assholes...'
... However, as if responding, the sky seemed to answer the voice first. It shifted.
A pulse of red suddenly washed over the entire plaza, painting every wall, every face, in feverish color. The world around was washed in a haze of spilled crimson rays.
Bale's neural band flared, and then he stumbled a step back, gripping his wrist as pain surged through it.
'Argh!'
The glow wasn't fading,... it was breathing.
'Damnit!All of it!' Bale was cursing in frustration of these strange anomalies. This was his first experience with a temporal rain, along with all other Unfits, even some cadets of the higher ranks.
The glow on his neural band was beating in rhythm... with the vortex, which was tearing the sky apart. He felt a pulse echo in his skull. It was soft at first, but then louder until it filled his head with a sound that wasn't sound at all.
Synchronization confirmed.
The words came, not spoken but heard. They were not his.
He froze. The words kept repeating, overlapping in his mind like a whisper heard underwater.
Tora's voice cut through the storm, intercepting his sudden growing discomfort. "Bale!"
He turned toward her. She was running across the courtyard, her jacket half open, and her purple hair swept by the cold wind, eerily glowing from the crimson flood of light. "You feel that too?"
He nodded. The words came out rough. "Yeah."
"Your band—"
"I know." Bale responded immediately. He struggled to keep his mind unfazed and check the environment around him for safety. At least confirming that, he could at least take Tora into safety. He thought, briefly glancing at her.
The sky shifted again. Only that this time, the spiral opened wider, its center no longer light but something darker, bending space around it like liquid glass. The vast chasm was so wide that it effortlessly dwarfed the whole planet. No human on the planet could The the whole thing. The air shimmered, and every metal surface in sight began to vibrate with a low hum that crawled under the skin. The brightness of the world dimmed more... until it brightened a little again. Some spaceships arrived. On them were the insignia of VFP, the New Facility, and the Defense Division. They had come from the closest planet, from planet Merr. The ships of Cerberus glided at a safe distance beneath the mawing bleak sky, landing few meters from the gate of the fort, the Academy. Its passengers, putting on sophisticated neural suits then began to unboard, running toward the huge gate of the Academy. They had come to maintain defense within the academy. Their contingents retained within the Academy had identified the situation and thus sent the signal to the nearest defense reinforcements from the closest planet, Merr. The cadets planet was simply called the Academy.
Then a voice came, from one of the passengers moments after they settled in. "Temporal flux buildup," the voice shouted from the command tower. "Containment grid online."
The mundane elites of Cerberus had not only come to maintain defense and assist the Instructors in containment, but to also activate the Temporal Grid. The Temporal Grid was an engineered framework designed to stabilize and synchronize the flow of time across cosmic or interdimensional scales.
It's like an advanced spatiotemporal network, similar to how the electrical grid stabilizes electrical energy across a city, but instead of electricity, it manages temporal energy, or time flow rates. Containing this temporal rain vortex was one of the purpose it served, too.
Then beams of white light shot upward, forming a cage around the vortex. For a moment, the vortex hum lessened. However, the grid cracked apart, giving way for energy rains that fell through the world, and the shockwave hit like a wall, crashing into planets, and into whatever was doomed to be on its path.
Caught in the massive shockwave, Bale hit the ground, his back sliding across the tiles. His neural band was screaming with red light, burning his skin hot. He'll be damned to find out it his cooking flesh would soon be readily edible as barbecue. The taste of something like copper was felt on his tongue. They were neural surges.
Tora was shouting his name again, her voice barely cutting through the ringing in his ears.
When he looked up, the vortex of clouds had changed shape. The red light folded inward, condensing into a figure suspended above the courtyard. Its body eerily distorted constantly between human and machine, animal and shadow, never staying the same for more than a heartbeat.
The whole Academy reacted to that. It seemed to be a unique temporal rain this time. This time, a vague figure had appeared within the vortex. Though most cadets, especially Unfits, had never seeb something like this, the older ones who had experienced sighting vague figures like this didn't panic much.
Bale couldn't move. His band pulsed with the same rhythm as the thing above. It was a shared heartbeat that felt wrong but connected.
Tora stepped closer, a mix of confusion and worry on her delicate face. "Bale, you okay? Your band's reacting to that."
"... I think it's the other way around," he said quietly, his eyes locked on whatever was above.
Her eyes snapped to him. "What's that supposed to mean?"
He didn't answer though. His gaze stayed fixed on the vague figure, its attention seemingly locked on him. Even without eyes, he felt it watching and studying him, strangely remembering him from somewhere deep within the storm... or so he felt.
Then suddenly, the noise died away. The shouts and alarms vanished. Everything hung still, as if the world had stopped breathing.
The energy rains had stopped, then the vast clouds imitating a vortex cleared a little, still leaving the world in a crimson hue. Everything seemed to gradually take peaceful shape now...
However, that didn't stop Bale from freezing. His face displayed a startling expression.
A whisper came again, but sifter this time, buried beneath the silence.
Sync confirmed
Resonant pattern recognized
'Eh?W–What sync is confirmed?'
Bale stepped backward, his pulse racing. "It's talking to me."
Tora frowned. "What is?"
"The vortex, or perhaps whatever is in it."
"What?" Tora grimaced in response.
Just then, the crimson light burst from the center of the sky, dissipating like energies. When Bale blinked, the figure was already gone, leaving only a spiral of smoke curling back into itself. The sky was totally clearing out.
Then everywhere became silent. The usual dull brightness remained. It had been almost a cycle the planet had seen direct sunlight. That was why the crimson hue generated by the temporal rain felt strangely comforting, even if it was nowhere close to direct sunlight.
The alarms cut out, the hum disappeared, and for a few moments, there was nothing. The cadets slowly stood, exchanging hollow glances at each other as if unsure whether they had survived something or missed it completely. The Unfits wore morose faces, looking around too.
The intercom came back online. "Temporal disturbance seized. All divisions return to quarters." The voice was calm again, unnaturally calm.
Bale didn't move. His neural band still glowed faint red, the hotness turning into a sharp sting under his skin. He had thought of dismantling the band from his wrist, but he chose not to, and so concluded that he'd manage the pain. He looked at Tora. "Did you hear it too?"
She shook her head. "Hear what?"
He hesitated. "Never mind."
She looked at him, worried. "You don't look good. Let's go to medbay."
He nodded. He pretending to agree, because his thoughts were spinning too fast to focus.
As they walked through the corridor, Bale noticed the lights flickering in rhythm with his band. Every pulse dimmed the hallway for a heartbeat before the glow returned. The air felt heavier the further they walked, filled with a quiet vibration that seemed to follow them.
When they reached the elevator, Bale caught his reflection in the mirrored door and froze. His eyes glowed faint red, only for a second, then dimmed as if nothing had happened.
Tora didn't seem to notice. She was looking somewhere else.
The elevator doors opened, and they stepped inside.
As the elevator hummed, they descended down.
But halfway down, something happened again. All around Bale, the walls rippled and the air seemed to stretch. For a heartbeat, everything skipped, as if reality missed a frame... and Bale saw something move in the reflection beside him. Though, he didn't actually see it, because it was somehow outside his peripheral vision. But he could swear something was there.
Just then though, his eyes caught it. It was not his face, and not Tora's.
It was an eye. It emanated an ominous aura as it was staring back at him through the mirrored surface. Only this time, he was not isolated in a different world with it and it was not bigger.
The eye though, exuded the same vastness. It emanated the suffocating aura of malevolence. That was Bale's impression about it. It was like the eye of the Hell guardian, a character he knew from the common fable about a realm of judgement after this reality.
In that instant, his heart involuntarily seized.
'What the...'
Swallowing his saliva, his face dripped with sweat. He was trying to take his mind under control.
'I bet I'm doomed..'
Blinking his eyes, everything went back to normal.
The elevator beeped softly, then the AI spoke.
"Dorm level."
Opening her eyes, Tora yawned. "Let's crash before the next check-in. See you later." She seemed to be unaware of Bale's reaction in the elevator. She based him and left for her cube.
"Yeah," Bale murmured as he stepped out after her.
As the doors closed, the reflection shimmered again. For one quiet second, the faint outline of the same eye appeared again, lingering against the steel, before fading back into nothing.
Moments later, outside the Cadet Academy walls and far into the atmosphere, the space around began to form ripples, until it tore apart. Human silhouettes surged out, their figures outlined against the dull sky like 2D paintings of dark anonymous warriors against a bleak background. Their oppressive aura arrested the hearts of the very few left outside who watched.
"The Unbounds!"