Ben didn’t wait. He grabbed a fire axe from a broken display, stepped to the tear’s edge, and swung. Not at the rift—at the air around it, splintering the space like ice. The crack made a sound like a hurt animal and sealed with a soft thump .
He pulled out his flashlight—not for light, but for weight. He lobbed it into the tear. The hum stuttered. The crack pulsed once, then shrank. A man nearby gasped, released from the stillness. Others stirred. ben battle ready
Someone tapped his shoulder. The woman he’d seen frozen. “How did you know that would work?” Ben didn’t wait
Ben clicked his vest straps. “Stay inside. Lock the doors.” Then he walked out. The crack made a sound like a hurt
He walked back to his office, sat down, and re-tied his shoes. Double knot.
Ben looked at the axe, then at the empty air. “I didn’t.”
Silence lifted. Sound flooded back—crying, sirens, a distant dog barking.