By the time Angelo turned fourteen, the world had changed in a way that no one could have predicted.
It started with cracks in the air. Not ordinary cracks — rifts, glowing and pulsing, appearing seemingly out of nowhere. At first, they were nothing more than a strange optical illusion. But soon, it became clear: these cracks were real, and they were opening a doorway into something else. Something terrifying.
The first of them came through.
They were beasts — monstrous, primal things that had no sense of intelligence, no will beyond their raw, animal instinct. They poured through the cracks in numbers, scuttling across the land, tearing through anything in their path. Their bodies were twisted, misshapen, often disproportionate. Limbs too long. Teeth too sharp. Eyes that gleamed with an unrelenting hunger.
The first sightings came in rural areas, where towns were torn apart without warning. There were no grand appearances, no signals, no signs of an impending disaster. One moment, the town was intact, and the next, it was under siege.
Reports began to pour in:
"—massive, deformed creatures appear out of thin air—trampling everything in their path—"
"—dozens of people missing—witnesses report animals with claws the size of swords—"
"—entire villages destroyed overnight—no trace of survivors."
The government's response was swift, but futile. The military could only fight the creatures back for so long before they were overwhelmed. These beasts were relentless, too numerous to be stopped. They had no purpose beyond destruction.
But amongst the chaos, there was something else. Something that didn't act like the beasts.
The Watchers.
They were different. They didn't attack. They didn't rampage. They stood apart, observing, silent in the shadows. Tall and thin, their forms almost humanoid, but their features obscured by a dark, swirling cloak-like aura. Their eyes glowed faintly, watching everything. Watching him. Watching everyone.
No one knew what they were, or what they wanted. They never attacked, never spoke. They simply watched.
And the creatures kept coming.
The news spread like wildfire:
"—the attacks are not isolated. The creatures seem to be spreading—no rhyme, no reason—"
"—anomaly sites detected globally. The cracks appear everywhere."
"—UN calls for international cooperation—warning of mass extinction events."
The world tried to adapt. Governments fell apart, panicked, and fractured. Cities were abandoned as people fled from the relentless onslaught of beasts, the world's infrastructure crumbling under the strain.
Angelo sat, numb, as he watched the chaos unfold. He watched it all happen — not on the edges of his reality anymore, but right in front of him. The news was filled with terrifying footage: the primal beasts tearing through cities, swarming over fields, their hunger insatiable.
And always, in the background, the Watchers. Silent, still, and waiting.
One evening, while Angelo sat in his room, flipping through static-filled channels on the TV, a familiar, eerie sense settled over him. The hairs on his neck stood on end as the broadcast shifted. The image on the screen flickered, and there, amidst the chaos of yet another attack, was something he recognized.
A Watcher.
It stood among the wreckage, distant but unmistakable. Its glowing eyes stared out from the screen, and for the briefest moment, Angelo could have sworn it was looking directly at him.
He froze.
The world had fractured in ways that couldn't be explained, and these creatures — these beasts — weren't just mindless monsters. Something, someone, was watching it all unfold. And somehow, Angelo felt that he was at the center of it.
The world had cracked open, and it was clear now: it was no longer just his problem. It was everyone's.
The creatures had arrived, and whatever was pulling the strings, whatever was watching, it had begun.