People scream and run away, but I can’t look away from the golden-red light as the star falls. A tear slips from my eye. I’m sad, not just sad, but heartbroken.
“The stars are falling,” Mordecai cries. “Alphas above and below, Alpha High, have mercy.”
It’s the first time I’ve ever heard him pray.
I shake my head, protesting Mordecai’s words. But another huge ball of golden-red light illuminates the city, passing so close that it almost hits our building. I look up, staring intently, even as it feels like it burns its shape into my eyes. It’s strange; the inside looks almost human.
Impossible.
“What is it? It can’t be a star,” Kaida hisses and swipes at her cheeks. She leans over the rail, watching as it disappears and smashes into a building. It’s gone from our sight for three seconds, but the massive boom and explosion of debris suddenly takes over half of our view. I grab my pack and drag them inside to the illusion of safety.
I close the doors and stand there with one hand on the glass, watching the world end.
“The stars are falling,” the reporter on the TV screams as she runs.
Kaida, Mordecai, and I stand, shoulder to shoulder, before I grab their hands and run out of the apartment. I climb the stairs up to the roof and shove open the door, looking up as another one goes past, but now we’re so high we can see better. We can see everything.
“Oh, shit.”
I turn in a slow circle, unable to shut my mouth. All around us are falling stars. Hundreds? Thousands? They rain down on the Earth as far as we can see.
Kaida lets out a sob, and I rush over to her, grabbing her hand and holding onto it, unable to look away from our end.
“It’s okay, Kaida, we’re going to be okay,” I say, but I don’t believe it.
“The stars are falling,” she sobs. She’s inconsolable, sobbing her heart out, but then I realise she’s not the only one. Everywhere I look, omegas, alphas, and betas stand in the street, on buildings, on balconies with their friends, family, or alone, crying in the streets, on the roof, and they sob.
I don’t think anyone knows why.
The sound of a city in mourning reaches a fever pitch. It goes on and on. We stay where we are, watching as they fall, tears running down our cheeks, unable to say what’s wrong.
All through the night, these giant orange and red balls of fire crash into our world. It’s all we can do to watch the end of it all.
I hold my omega, my pregnant omega, and whisper to her that it’s going to be okay, we’re going to be okay, but I don’t know that I’m telling the truth because this feels like the worst thing that could ever happen.
I turn, hearing something, and look up at a fireball, and I scream. The panic and fear slam into me. I run towards it, stopping at the edge of the building, screaming over and over as it crashes into the building across from us.
Mordecai grabs my arms and holds me, hauling me back.
“What’s wrong? Jarek?” Kaida screams. “Alpha?”
I don’t answer her; I just keep screaming. Mordecai grabs me in a bear hug and holds me tight. I hit him, trying to get free, but when I can’t, I collapse into his arms.
“What’s wrong? Speak to us!” he soothes. “Tell me.”
“I don’t know!” I scream frantically. “I don’t know.”
“It wasn’t supposed to happen.” The voice is loud enough to cut through my screams. Calm enough that it’s out of place. Power and authority.
We all turn and find an old woman standing there. I wipe the tears from my face, but they keep coming. Her hair is in curlers, and she’s wearing pink bunny slippers, but there’s something strong in how delicate she appears.
“What wasn’t?” Kaida asks nervously. “Are you okay? Do you need help?”
“This,” she waves a hand. “It was seen, of course; the All-Seer would have seen some of it, but I gather she thought she could avoid it. Or maybe it has to play out this way.”
“What are you talking about?” Mordecai asks.
“The gods are dying,” she whispers.
