The next morning, the sky changed.
For the first time in years—
Light broke through.
The villagers gathered outside, staring upward in disbelief as the clouds split apart like torn fabric.
Sunlight poured down.
Beautiful.
Blinding.
Wrong.
Gideon stood among them, unmoving.
Because while everyone else saw light—
He saw something else.
Beyond the sky, hidden in the fracture, there was movement.
Something vast.
Something watching.
And then—
It looked directly at him.
The world trembled.
A sound echoed across existence itself—not heard, but felt.
A single word.
"Gideon."
The ground cracked beneath his feet.
Screams filled the air.
And in that moment—
Gideon Goddard understood.
The sky hadn't opened to let light in.
It had opened—
To let something out.