The rhythmic clink-clink of metal against metal echoed through the dimly lit workshop. Cell was hunched over a skeletal frame of pressurized alloy, his hands trembling slightly as he soldered the last of the life-support connectors. Every spark of the torch was a defiant flicker against the encroaching shadow. This suit wasn't just a machine; it was his only shield against a god that didn't care for his existence.Outside, on the derelict balcony, Euda stood paralyzed. She wasn't looking at the horizon—she was looking deeper. The ink-black sky, usually as still as a grave, seemed to shiver. A patch of darkness, darker than the rest, drifted slowly across the empty space where a star should have been. It didn't fly; it lurked, like a predator circling a glass bowl."It's not just a shadow," Euda whispered, her breath hitching. "It's moving... like it's breathing. It's right there, watching us from the cracks in the sky."A heavy footstep creaked on the floorboards behind her. Pridge emerged from the gloom, his eyes fixed on the same void. He didn't offer comfort. He didn't tell her it was her imagination.He stood beside her, his silhouette sharp against the dead stars. Following her gaze through the cracked window of the world, he spoke in a voice that sounded like grinding stone."I know," Pridge murmured, his eyes reflecting the absolute nothingness above. "This isn't our world anymore, Euda. We're just the uninvited guests in its backyard now."Inside the workshop, Cell stopped. He didn't look up, but he felt the shift in the air—the sudden, crushing weight of an invisible gaze. He picked up his helmet, the visor reflecting the dark spiral above."Then we'll just have to make it our world again," Cell said to the silence. "Or die trying to look it in the eye. Cell look above his workshop and see the sky before the lights Flicker and the gravity around cell's workshop get unstable for no reason make cell, Euda, And Pridge See the truth that they are nothing compared to something above them.
