Mara Vale had called her brother seven times before the network disappeared.
The first few calls had gone unanswered. One connected for less than a second before ending. After that, she had stopped calling and started sending messages instead.
Most of them said the same thing.
Do not forget the noodles.
At that time, she had been annoyed.
Marek was supposed to be home before midnight. He had told her the university’s test would not take long, although Mara had learned that anything involving Marek and a laboratory could take several hours longer than expected.
He could go somewhere to return a container and somehow end up helping someone reorganize the entire storage room because one label was wrong.
That was normal.
The road outside their apartment becoming something impossible was not.
Mara stood near the living-room window and looked toward the next block.
Their apartment building remained where it had always been. The convenience store across the road was still there. Several vehicles had been abandoned near the intersection, and one of the store windows had been broken sometime after midnight.
Beyond those buildings, the city changed.
The road that should have continued toward another residential area disappeared between several enormous trees.
Mara had never seen trees that large anywhere near Linden City.
People had tried walking toward them earlier.
Some came back.
Others returned from directions that did not make sense.
One man had left through the eastern road and somehow returned through the street behind their apartment building.
After that, fewer people tried.
Mara stepped away from the window.
Her phone remained on the dining table.
No signal.
She tried Marek again anyway.
The call failed.
Her mother did not answer either.
Mara stared at the screen for several seconds before placing the phone down.
Her father had been gone for eleven years.
She had been three when Tomas Vale disappeared. Most of what she knew about him came from photographs, recordings, and stories her mother occasionally told when Mara asked enough times.
Marek remembered him better.
Their mother remembered more than either of them.
Since then, there had only been the three of them.
Mara had never thought much about that.
Her mother worked. Marek studied and worked whenever he could.
Mara was usually the reason one of them complained about the grocery bill.
It was enough.
Now, she did not know where either of them was.
Someone knocked on the apartment door. Mara immediately turned toward it.
Another knock followed.
"Mara?"
She recognized the voice.
Mrs. Dela Cruz lived across the hall.
Mara approached the door and checked through the peephole before opening it. Mrs. Dela Cruz stood outside with her husband and their son. All three carried bags.
The woman looked relieved. "You’re still here."
"Where else would I be?"
"They’re evacuating the upper floors."
Mara frowned. "Why?"
"Something happened to the west stairwell."
"What happened?"
"I don’t know. There’s a crack along the wall, and management doesn’t want anyone above the fifth floor until someone checks it."
Mara looked back inside the apartment. "My brother is coming home."
Mrs. Dela Cruz became quiet.
Mara noticed immediately. "What?"
"I didn’t say anything."
"You were going to."
The woman sighed. "Leave him a note."
Mara did not like that answer.
Marek had told her before that if something happened while their mother was working, she should stay inside unless the building itself became unsafe.
Those conversations had been about earthquakes, fires, and storms.
None of them included forests replacing roads or marks appearing on everyone’s bodies.
Mrs. Dela Cruz looked toward Mara’s hands.
Mara lowered them.
Twin markings had appeared across both palms shortly after midnight.
Gemini.
She knew the name because emergency information had briefly appeared on several television channels and public screens before communication became unreliable.
She also knew part of what the Mark did.
Unfortunately.
During the first hour, the television had broadcast an emergency message telling everyone to remain indoors.
Mara had repeated the entire announcement. The voice that came from her mouth belonged to the man on television.
She had screamed.
Then she had heard her own scream come out of her mouth again almost immediately.
After that, she stopped speaking unless she needed to.
Mrs. Dela Cruz’s husband had awakened Taurus. A golden pattern was visible beneath the collar of his shirt.
He had already broken their bathroom handle.
According to Mrs. Dela Cruz, he had also damaged the front door while trying not to damage it.
Mara looked at his hands.
He noticed. "I’m not touching anything."
"I didn’t say anything."
"You looked."
Before Mara could respond, voices came from the stairwell.
"Residents from sixth floor and above, move downstairs. Anyone with an uncontrolled Mark report to the ground floor registration area."
Mara looked toward Mrs. Dela Cruz. "Registration?"
"They started it about an hour ago."
"For what?"
"I don’t know."
That answer was becoming common.
They went downstairs together.
The lobby was crowded.
Several tables had been placed near the entrance. Building staff sat behind two of them while three security officers stood nearby.
A handwritten sign had been taped to the wall.
AWAKENING REGISTRATION
Below it was a list of information everyone needed to provide.
Name.
Age.
Address.
Known medical conditions.
Astral Mark classification.
Manifestation observed.
Control status.
Mara read the last two twice.
People were being separated into different lines.
Those whose Marks had appeared but had not done anything obvious remained near the main entrance.
Others were being questioned more carefully.
One man had apparently thrown part of his kitchen table across his apartment without meaning to.
Another woman had caused water to move across a room.
A teenager stood near one of the officers with both hands kept away from the furniture. He had already broken two chairs without meaning to.
A bus waited outside.
It was not a normal public bus.
Security personnel stood near both doors.
Mara looked toward it. "Where are they taking them?"
Mrs. Dela Cruz followed her gaze.
One of the building employees answered from behind the table. "Temporary stabilization facility."
"What is that?"
"A converted school about three districts west."
"Why?"
"For anyone who still can’t control whatever manifested in them."
Mara looked toward the bus again.
Several people were already inside.
"Are they arrested?"
"No."
"Can they leave?"
The employee hesitated.
Mara waited.
"Once they’re considered safe."
"That sounds like no."