The wind carried the scent of rust and old rain through the shattered streets of Calhoun City. The sky was the color of steel, heavy with clouds, but it never rained. It just threatened, holding the promise of a storm that never came.

  Sienna adjusted the strap of her rifle, scanning the broken skyline as she walked. Same ruins. Same dust. Same silence.

  This was how life had been for the past three years.

  The others moved ahead, keeping their voices low. Luis led the way, his machete bouncing against his hip, his sharp gaze checking every alley and rooftop. Quinn walked beside him, boots crunching over debris, always flipping that damn bullet between his fingers like it was some kind of nervous tick.

  Eddie and Jules followed behind, talking in hushed tones. Jules was the only one who ever had hope left—a thing Sienna found more dangerous than bullets.

  They didn’t talk about what came next. There was nothing next. Just survival.

  They reached an old grocery store on the city’s edge. The sign had fallen, leaving only a rusted frame, but the building still stood. That was rare enough these days.

  “This’ll do,” Luis said, stepping inside.

  Quinn let out a breath. “Finally. My feet are killing me.”

  Luis shot him a look. “Your feet’ll be the least of your problems if we don’t set up a watch.”

  They all got to work securing the place—blocking doors, checking for old supplies, making sure nothing was already living inside. It was routine by now.

  Jules found an old candle, lit it in the center of the floor like some kind of shrine. Eddie rolled his eyes, but he didn’t stop her.

  Sienna climbed onto the roof, brushing dust off her jeans as she sat down. From up here, she could see the whole street—empty, lifeless, nothing but old ghosts.

  She exhaled slowly, watching the horizon. The silence of the world never sat right with her.

  She leaned back against the rooftop, closing her eyes for just a second.

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  And then, the dream took her.

  At first, it felt like falling.

  Then—light.

  Sienna stood in the middle of a city. But not like the ones she knew. This place was whole. Untouched by fire, untouched by ruin.

  Glass skyscrapers rose high, reflecting the golden sunrise. The air smelled of fresh rain, pavement warmed by the sun.

  People walked past her. Real people. Talking, laughing, sipping coffee like the world wasn’t about to shatter beneath them.

  A screen flashed on the side of a building. A news broadcast.

  “Ongoing military operations overseas remain classified, but unconfirmed reports suggest unprecedented cooperation between rival nations—”

  The voice cut out, distorting.

  The sky rippled.

  Like a stone dropped in a still pond, the air itself wavered.

  Then came the screams.

  The first explosion tore through the skyline, sending glass and metal raining down.

  People ran. A man grabbed his child and sprinted across the street before a second blast consumed them both.

  The buildings weren’t falling from bombs.

  They were falling from something else.

  Sienna’s body felt frozen in place as she looked up.

  A crack split the sky.

  Not like lightning. Not like anything natural.

  It was wrong. A jagged, spiraling wound spreading wider, black veins crawling across the horizon.

  Shapes moved inside it. Massive, shifting things that should not exist.

  And then—fire.

  Not like an explosion. Not like war.

  It was a purge.

  Sienna tried to turn, to run, but the world itself bent inward, pulling her into the abyss.

  And before she fell completely—she saw them.

  The soldiers.

  Not running. Fighting.

  A line of them, across rooftops, across the streets, standing against something unseen.

  She saw jets streak through the sky, launching missiles toward the black rift.

  She saw military convoys rolling through the streets, soldiers barking orders in a dozen languages.

  She saw a flash—blinding, searing—and then nothing.

  Then silence.

  The world was gone.

  She gasped awake, sucking in air like she had just crawled out of the ocean.

  For a second, the world was still warped—the sky looked too sharp, the colors too wrong.

  Then reality settled in. The dust. The ruins. The silence.

  And Luis was crouched over her, frowning. “The hell happened to you?”

  Sienna’s hands were shaking. She wiped sweat from her brow, but the images wouldn’t leave her mind.

  It wasn’t a dream.

  It wasn’t a hallucination.

  It was real.

  Quinn was watching her now, flipping that bullet between his fingers. “You were twitching like you were being electrocuted.”

  Jules frowned, setting down the candle. “Did you see something?”

  Sienna swallowed. Her throat was dry. “It wasn’t war.”

  Luis blinked. “What?”

  She looked at them. “The world. It didn’t just fall apart. It was killed.”

  No one spoke.

  Outside, the wind howled through the broken streets.

  It was the only thing left alive.