The First Storm
I remember the exact moment the sky shattered. It was like the world split in two—a crack of lightning so bright it seared my eyes, followed by a roar that felt like it came from inside my skull. We’d seen storms before in Ember City, sure, but this one… this wasn’t natural. The air tasted like ash, sharp and metallic, and I could feel something strange in my bones. Not fear—something deeper, like the world itself had turned on us.
I was scavenging when it happened, up on the north end of the city. I should’ve been at the shelter with the others, but scavenging was my life, and food had been scarce for weeks. I didn’t have time to be afraid when the buildings started to shake. First came the wind, fierce and angry, then the darkness rolled in. Not nightfall, but a deep, choking blackness that swallowed everything. The storm arrived all at once—like it had been waiting.
People were screaming, but I didn’t stop to help. I couldn’t. Not when I saw what the storm was doing. Bodies convulsed, twisting in ways they weren’t supposed to. Some just collapsed, and others—gods, their eyes—lit up like something was burning inside them. Whatever was happening, it was changing people. Warping them. And I wasn’t about to find out how.
I ran. That’s what I do. I run. The city was falling apart around me, but my legs wouldn’t stop moving. There was nowhere safe anymore. Nothing left of the city I used to know.
