The storm touched down at three-seventeen in the morning, and Avner Harris knew it would change everything.
He crouched behind the rusted skeleton of what had once been a grain elevator, watching the impossible dance of violet lightning tear across the Nebraska sky. Each bolt struck with surgical precision, leaving behind pools of absolute darkness that seemed to drink in the starlight. These were the Tenebras wounds—portals that defied every law of physics he'd learned in his previous life, before the storms came and scattered humanity across infinite timelines like seeds in the winds.
