The rifts above the Spire tore open with soundless violence, their edges shimmering with neon hues that defied known spectrums. From each breach spilled not just enemies—but memories. Alternate versions of battles lost, timelines fragmented, hopes never fulfilled. The air buzzed with conflict before the first shot was fired.
Ethan stood at the center of the console room, fists clenched. "This is worse than we thought. They're not just coming through—they're collapsing timelines behind them."
Eve tapped rapidly on the console. "They're not trying to invade. They're trying to overwrite us. One stabilized core against infinite corrupted forks? They're going to bury us in their noise."
Aly leaned against the fractured bulkhead. "That would be a very dramatic way to say we're boned."
