Portals.

“Sir! You’re going to have to come into the Observatory; something bad is waking up. All the supervolcanoes are rising… All twenty worldwide are waking up!” Mike Snider’s voice cracked over the phone. It wasn’t just panic... it was raw, bone-deep terror.

“What... are you sure what you’re saying? Don’t joke with me at 3:23 in the damn morning!” Dr. Andrew Miller shouted, his voice trembling, his mind struggling to process the words.

“No, sir… you’re going to have to come in,” Mike replied, clipped, urgent, almost trembling.

“I’m on my way.”

Miller stared at the phone in his hands, his pulse hammering, his heart threatening to leap from his chest. In twelve years as a volcanologist, he had never heard Mike sound like this. Not during the Steamboat Geyser crisis, not during minor eruptions... never. This… this was terror. Pure, unfiltered terror.

He vaulted out of bed. The rug shifted under his bare feet; he stumbled, catching himself on the chair. His clothes lay in a heap. He yanked at his pants, one leg catching on the bed frame, nearly sending him sprawling.

A photo of his wedding day two years back teetered on the dresser, almost falling. He shoved it back just in time, barely noticing Emma stirring in the bedroom.

Her sleepy voice called out to him, soft and confused. “Andrew…?”

He looked at her. "Go back to sleep, Emma." He grabbed his shoes, nearly dropping them as he stumbled toward the door. The front door felt impossibly far away. Every step was unsteady, panic making him clumsy and human.

He flung the door open, the cold night air slamming against his face.

He ran toward his car and got in. His pulse raced as he started the car, slammed the door behind him, and tore down the street. Sirens wailed around him, distant cries of emergency, but he didn’t slow... this wasn’t just a night for speed. It was maybe the night to save the world... Or not.

Fifteen minutes later, he reached the gates of the Yellowstone Volcano Observatory. The guard was already moving, alerted that the boss was coming. The massive steel gates groaned as they opened. Dr. Miller barreled through, slammed the car into park, and leapt out, his heart still hammering; his hands were slick with sweat.

Inside, the familiar smell of antiseptic and electronics did nothing to calm his nerves. Liam, the security guard, stood to his left, watching as the TV played the early morning news... the world unaware of the horror descending on it.

Miller sprinted up the stairs two at a time, and Mike met him halfway.

“Sir, everything is awake... I don’t know how to explain it! I tried to stay calm and keep an eye on things, and then every alarm went off… one supervolcano after the other. And remember our prediction: if one erupts, the others will follow…” His voice faltered, raw. “I think that’s happening now.”

Miller’s stomach dropped. “Are you telling me that all twenty supervolcanoes in the world are awake...?”

“Yes, sir. All twenty. It started forty minutes ago.”

Alarms screamed in the building. Someone shouted, “Mike! Yellowstone just erupted...”

The building shuddered violently. The floor tilted. Steel beams shrieked, and Miller screamed orders to everyone: “Everyone under the desks... NOW!"

Miller looked down at the top of the stairs, screaming to a frozen guard, Liam, to get under his desk.

Then the skylight above shattered, the glass raining down with murderous intent. Shards sliced through the air. One shard struck Miller... his head severed instantly, the blood spraying in every direction, hot and dark. Mike froze in horror; blood was splashing over his clothes and face, a scream tearing from his throat as the building groaned and twisted.

The ground lurched with violent force, throwing Mike to his knees. The walls cracked, and steel beams shrieked. He scrambled for the door, but the floor tilted, and the ceiling collapsed onto him.

Outside, ash rolled toward the town like a living thing, and the heat burned the trees to their core. Yellowstone roared, the earth shaking violently, thunderously, and almost alive.