[Malach]
The car ride was quiet. No one spoke. The only sounds were the steady hum of the engine and the faint crunch of gravel under the tires as the caravan wound through the suburban outskirts of New Birmingham. Malach watched silhouettes pass by through the window, noting the neatly trimmed hedges, the pale lamp posts, and the rows of estates spaced far apart from each other.
Above them, the sky remained empty. The stars and clouds had vanished entirely, leaving only the moon suspended in a hollow darkness. It looked wrong, but Malach could not yet explain why.
The caravan turned down a long private road. At the end stood his new residence. It was smaller than the estate he had grown up in, but still refined and impressive, with smooth white walls and broad windows that reflected the moonlight. The home looked peaceful, almost serene, in a way that did not match the tension in Malach's chest.
Ellor stepped forward with a clipboard and a calm nod. "Welcome to your new home. Everything inside has been prepared in advance. The rest of your belongings will be unloaded shortly."
"Thank you," Malach replied.
Inside, the estate felt modest but elegant. The wooden floors were polished, the cream-colored walls warm, and the lighting soft enough to create a comfortable atmosphere. It was not ostentatious like the main family estate, but undeniably well kept.
The moment he entered the living room, Malach went straight to the media console and activated the display. A shimmering surface came to life, projecting the latest broadcasts. The tone of the news anchors was strained and uneasy, each trying to maintain composure as they reported on the mysterious darkening of the sky.
Within moments, the screen shifted to the Prime Minister. His expression was grave and controlled.
"Citizens of Albion," he began. "Effective immediately, all residents are to remain indoors. A nationwide curfew is in place until further notice. Government agencies are investigating the cause of the celestial blackout. Please remain calm and await further instructions."
Malach felt his shoulders tense. A curfew across all of Albion was unprecedented.
Orvell entered carrying a box and paused when he saw the broadcast. Malach looked at him, then spoke firmly. "Tell everyone to stay inside and finish unloading quickly. We are not going anywhere tonight."
"Understood," Orvell said. He turned to pass along the instructions, calling to the other attendants. The staff responded swiftly, their movements quicker and more focused than before.
Malach remained by the display, switching between channels to gather as much information as possible. Various institutions revealed information, officials repeatedly urged citizens to remain indoors. None of the reports provided real clarity.
After a long silence, Malach finally said, "Orvell. Please try contacting my parents. They must know something about this."
"I will attempt to reach them," Orvell replied, already retrieving a comm-stone. His expression was composed, but Malach could see the tension behind it.
The minutes stretched uncomfortably.
Eventually Orvell returned from the hallway. His expression had shifted, but subtly, like someone who had heard something they could not fully understand.
"I managed to reach your father," he said.
Malach stood. "What did he say?"
"He offered no details," Orvell answered. "But he did mention rising tensions between humanity and the angels. Specifically Eryon."
Malach felt a faint chill spread through him. "Tensions? After centuries of silence? Why now?"
Orvell shook his head. "He did not say. Only that the situation is being monitored and that citizens should remain indoors."
Malach sank onto the sofa, eyes fixed once more on the glowing display.
Eryon.
Seven centuries ago in the 1200s, the angelic domain that rose behind walls tall enough to scrape the heavens. The place where the angels who descended in the Grounding in central Asia had chosen to build their home. Humanity had spent centuries watching them from afar, fascinated by their presence and intimidated by their divinity.
He had grown up hearing the stories. The pillars of light that had erupted during the Grounding.T he slow construction of the impossible walls. The angels who never left their domain. The reverence humanity formed toward them, a mixture of worship and fear.
Yet they had never reached out. Never intervened. Never broken their silence.
So why did it feel like something had shifted tonight?
Malach rubbed his hands together slowly, the sound of the news filling the room. Orvell stood nearby, arms crossed, silently observing. Ellor passed through the hall with a crate and offered a polite nod before continuing. The atmosphere inside the house felt tense, even though nothing dramatic was happening.
Malach leaned back as the screen continued to flicker with updates. His mind kept returning to the same thought.
The world felt unstable tonight. As if something vast had stirred, something that had remained dormant for centuries.
He could not shake the feeling that whatever had begun with the empty sky would not end quietly.