Before Atlas even had the chance to respond, a deafening sound echoed through the hall. The shockwave was so violent it threw them to the ground. Hands clamped over his ears in a desperate bid to muffle the terrifying din, Atlas felt like he was listening to the despairing howl of a monstrous beast, the kind he'd only seen in movies.
In the distance, the soldiers piling the bodies stopped dead in their tracks. They slipped on noise-canceling headsets, but their faces couldn't hide the tension radiating from them. Beads of sweat dripped down the napes of their necks, and their pupils had contracted in sheer terror. It was as if they were waiting for someone—or something—that terrified them to their very core...
Atlas felt something gargantuan moving in the distance, a massive, shapeless bulk. He couldn't see it, but he could feel the danger. His instinct, which he had always completely lacked, was now screaming at him to hide immediately.
But what about Emma? She was even more paralyzed by fear than before.
— Emma? he breathed in the lowest voice possible. Don't make a sound, and do exactly as I say without question if you want to live.
He didn't know where this absolute calm taking over him was coming from; he had never been like this. Emma, on the contrary, showed no signs of calming down. That noise and the overwhelming sense of dread were the last straw. She wanted to scream out her agony, to just disappear... Sensing her panic, Atlas clamped his hand firmly over her mouth to prevent a catastrophe. Then, he dropped to all fours, crawling under the amphitheater benches. Emma followed close behind, clutching his t-shirt.
The moment they reached the back of the room, hiding in the shadows behind some supply cabinets, Atlas watched the soldiers in their proud uniforms drop to their knees in unison. Their fear was so intense it almost seemed to materialize in the air around them.
Why are they so terrified? I know I can feel the danger, it's true, but aside from that noise, there's nothing here... nothing but us.
Suddenly, the very structure of the building groaned like a dying animal. The amphitheater ceiling shattered in a titanic crash, sending heavy blocks of concrete and thick clouds of dust raining down across the room. Atlas tightened his grip on Emma, pinning her against the trembling floor, the breath knocked out of him.
Through the gaping hole in the roof, the light was instantly blotted out by an inconceivable shape.
It wasn't a creature of flesh and blood. It was a shifting, blurry mass, its contours seemingly twisting and defying the fundamental laws of geometry. It was like watching an inkblot expand in three dimensions. Its mere presence made the air vibrate at a nauseating frequency, creating a continuous shockwave that made the remaining walls crack with incessant splintering sounds.
Then, something reached into the room. It resembled a gigantic hand, though its "fingers" were shifting appendages of abyssal blackness. With a movement that was slow yet implacably forceful, the hand swept across the back of the amphitheater, scooping up the mountain of bloody corpses like cheap twigs.
The soldiers remained kneeling, their faces frozen in religious terror. Yet, one of them—the squad commander, judging by the dusty stripes on his shoulder—found the strength to lift his head. Knees knocking together, he dared to break the silence imposed by the monster.
— Collector... the soldier stammered, his voice breaking under the superhuman effort it took not to run away. We... we have completed the harvest. As agreed. Our... our payment?
The mass above them ceased all movement. The air grew so heavy that Atlas felt his lungs were going to implode.
Then, the creature laughed.
It was no human laugh. It was a metallic grinding mixed with unbearable frequencies, a sound that made the eardrums of the soldiers present bleed. In Atlas's mind, a crackling voice formed, using the words of men with a sickening clumsiness, like a child tearing the legs off an insect just to see how it works:
"A... pay... ment..." the thing spat in a distorted voice. "Yes... I will... pay you... very... graciously..."
Scarcely had these rough words faded into the air when the giant hand slammed down.
There was no scream, no resistance. In a fraction of a second, the soldier was crushed with unprecedented violence. His body was reduced to a shapeless puddle mixed with shattered concrete, instantly absorbed by the shifting matter of the creature's fingers. The other soldiers didn't flinch, their eyes glued to the floor, praying silently that they wouldn't be the next to receive this "grace."
Hidden in the shadows, Atlas felt Emma's heart pounding frantically against his arm. If she screamed now, they would end up exactly like that soldier.
Even though he had remained unflinchingly calm since the beginning of this nightmare, Atlas now wore an expression of sheer terror. At the same time, could anyone really blame him? How does an antelope react to a lioness? How does prey react to its absolute predator?
Emma was on the verge of passing out from the endless chain of horrors, crushed by the cruel realization that the world she once knew had brutally—and without anyone's consent—changed forever.
Minutes ticked by. The soldiers didn't move a muscle. Even though the creature, this so-called "Collector," seemed to have left, no one dared break the silence. The same went for Atlas and Emma.
Atlas was terrified, more so than he had ever been in his entire existence. His body was going haywire: his heart pumped blood until his veins felt ready to burst, his legs trembled pitifully, and his arms refused to obey him. But his mind... Oh, his mind was thrilled! Beneath the thick layer of terror paralyzing his frail, helpless body, a pure, incandescent excitement was boiling. He didn't know where this sensation was coming from, but deep within his core, he had one absolute certainty: the ordinary world he once knew had just entered a new, terrifying era. And he fully intended to make it his playground.