Kieran Vale knew the city's sounds the way other people knew music.
The low groan of buses braking too late. The distant crack of sirens that never came close enough to matter. The hum of electricity crawling through old wires like something alive. Even the quiet had its own texture here, thin and cautious, as if silence itself didn't trust the streets.
He walked with his hands in his pockets, shoulders slightly hunched, not because he was cold but because it made him smaller. Forgettable. In places like this, being noticed was rarely a good thing.
The buildings leaned inward as he passed, concrete ribs exposed where walls had crumbled and never been fixed. Posters clung to the brick like dying leaves, advertising things no one here could afford. Above him, the sky was its usual dull gray, heavy but familiar. Safe in its predictability.
Kieran didn't look up.
He never did.
The day didn't feel important. It felt like every other day, which was why the moment stuck in his memory later, replaying with cruel clarity. He was thinking about whether he had enough money left for bread. About how long he could stretch a meal if he skipped dinner. About nothing that mattered in the grand sense of things.
Then the air changed.
It wasn't sudden. Not at first. It felt like pressure, like the moment before a storm breaks, except there were no clouds moving, no wind rising. The sounds of the city softened, as if someone had turned the volume down just enough to make it unsettling.
Kieran slowed.
People around him did too. Conversations faltered. Footsteps hesitated. Someone laughed nervously, the sound too loud in the thinning noise.
And then the sky cracked.
Not exploded. Not burned.
It split.
A thin, jagged line tore across the clouds, glowing faintly, like light bleeding through broken glass. Kieran stopped walking. For the first time in years, he tilted his head back and stared.
The crack widened.
The air bent around it, rippling like heat over asphalt. Buildings shuddered, not collapsing but warping, their edges stretching and twisting as if reality itself were being pulled apart.
Someone screamed.
The ground lurched, and Kieran staggered, catching himself against a streetlight that vibrated beneath his grip. The noise returned all at once, louder and wrong. Sirens wailed. Glass shattered. People ran without knowing where they were going.
The crack in the sky pulsed.
And then the world folded.
Kieran felt weightless for half a second. Just long enough for his stomach to drop, for his breath to tear from his lungs. The city twisted inward, streets curling like paper burned at the edges. Colors drained, then returned too sharp, too vivid.
Darkness swallowed him.
When sensation returned, it came violently.
He hit the ground hard, air exploding from his chest. Pain flared through his shoulder and back, sharp enough to steal his breath. He rolled instinctively, coughing, scraping his palms against rough concrete that felt colder than it should have.
Kieran lay there for a moment, staring up.
The sky was wrong.
It wasn't gray. It wasn't blue. It was fractured, layered with glowing seams that pulsed slowly, like veins beneath translucent skin. Light leaked through the cracks, casting the world below in an unnatural glow.
He pushed himself up on shaking arms.
The street looked like his city and nothing like it. Buildings stood frozen mid-collapse, concrete slabs suspended in the air as if time had given up halfway through destruction. Cars were embedded at impossible angles, metal warped and stretched. The air hummed, a low vibration he felt more in his bones than his ears.
"Kieran?"
The voice made him flinch.
He spun, heart hammering, scanning the street. A woman stood several meters away, eyes wide, clutching her arm as if afraid it might vanish. Others were scattered nearby, dazed, injured, staring at the sky or at their own hands as if expecting them to change.
Relief flickered briefly in Kieran's chest.
He wasn't alone.
That was when the pain hit.
It started as heat, sharp and sudden, directly between his shoulder blades. Kieran gasped, arching forward as if struck. The sensation wasn't like a burn or a wound. It felt deeper, as though something beneath his skin was being carved open.
He staggered, dropping to one knee.
The heat intensified, spreading outward in jagged lines. His vision blurred. Sounds dulled. For a moment, there was nothing but pain and a crushing sense of wrongness.
Then the image slammed into his mind.
Himself, standing exactly where he was now.
A shadow above.
Concrete breaking free.
The world rushing down.
Kieran moved before he understood why.
He threw himself sideways, body reacting without thought. A split second later, the air where he had been standing filled with thunder as a slab of concrete crashed down, shattering the ground and sending debris flying.
Dust choked the street.
Kieran lay sprawled on the ground, chest heaving, heart threatening to tear itself free. He stared at the crater inches from where his head had been.
If he hadn't moved—
Someone screamed.
He twisted, dread pooling in his stomach.
The woman who had called his name stood frozen, eyes wide, mouth open in a soundless cry. A jagged beam of concrete had crushed her legs, pinning her beneath the rubble. Blood spread beneath her, dark and fast.
The heat in Kieran's back pulsed once.
Then faded.
Silence fell heavy and absolute.
Kieran scrambled to his feet, stumbling toward her, hands shaking. "I—I can help," he said, though he didn't know how. He didn't know anything. "Just—just hold on."
Her eyes found his.
There was no anger in them. No accusation. Just fear and confusion and something like understanding, as if she already knew the truth he was only beginning to grasp.
She stopped breathing before he reached her.
Kieran stood there, frozen, staring at the body.
The mark on his back throbbed softly, warm and alive.
And somewhere deep inside him, a realization settled like a stone.
The vision hadn't saved everyone.
It had only saved him.
Behind him, the fractured sky pulsed again, brighter this time, as if acknowledging his survival.
As if watching.
Kieran swallowed, dread curling tight in his chest, and wondered how many more times the world would let him live before demanding another life in return.