Chapter - 7 The Fall of the Unbroken

Denver is alive with noise, neon lights flickering to life in windows and storefronts. Nightlife begins to wake as Rowan wanders down the streets, seemingly unnoticed by the people he passes — despite their shadows stretching toward him as he walks by, then snapping back into place the moment he’s far enough away.Streetlamps flicker, their light receding slightly as he passes beneath them, only to snap back to normal a second later. Passersby rub their eyes, confused.Pigeons overhead fly backward for several seconds, unnoticed by anyone, flapping in panicked confusion until Rowan disappears down the sidewalk.Rowan blinks, looking around. The noises, the smells, the sights — all of it overwhelms him. He holds his head, noticing none of the strange distortions happening around him.“I don’t like this… I don’t feel… right.” he can't shake the dread he's feeling deep in his gut. Like he's about to step off a cliff with no water below."I need to remember!"---Meanwhile, across the globe in Europe, a ruined industrial zone shakes as a woman walks through it — a woman in a form‑fitting black bodysuit with gold accents shaped like jagged seismograph readings across her muscular, feminine frame. A half‑domino mask covers her faintly glowing blue eyes, no irises or pupils visible even with her powers heavily dampened.The ground cracks under the sheer pressure of her steps. Steel buildings warp or collapse as she passes, animals scurrying for safety. Others are caught under rubble after high‑pitched whines that abruptly go silent. Metal groans. Concrete breaks.Birds fall from the sky, smashing into the ground with unrelenting force — reduced to smears on the pavement.Supremia’s expression is annoyed, arrogant.“Where are you, little bug?”Then she feels it — another gravitational whisper. Faint but undeniable. Weak but far.She turns her head eastward, eyes narrowing.“You can’t hide forever.”---Back in Denver, the sun dips below the horizon as the moon rises. Rowan continues walking, oblivious and overwhelmed as he tries to acclimate to city life.He steps off a curb — and something inside him builds, crescendos.The feeling peaks.A pulse erupts from him — a shockwave of raw, inexplicable force.A traffic light crumples as if a giant hand squeezed it.A bike delivery rider crashes as his wheels warp into ovals. He looks around, confused, but doesn’t notice Rowan.A man’s coffee cup floats into the air. He stares at it, frightened.A car alarm blares as the vehicle shakes violently.A baby stops mid‑wail as Rowan passes.Rowan clutches his chest, breathing heavily.“What was that…?”He doesn’t notice the pulse racing outward at impossible speed, rippling across the globe.---In a trailer park, a woman working beneath a truck curses as it slips off its jack stands — only for her to throw it off herself like an unwanted blanket on a hot summer night.In Japan, security footage captures a blurred figure outrunning a bullet train — just before the video corrupts into static.In China, a drunken woman staggers through traffic, chugging from a bottle. Cars narrowly miss her as she weaves perfectly between them without ever looking up.In Canada, a hunter freezes as a massive figure moves through the trees — silent, impossibly fast for something that size.In the UK, a bright light erupts from the windows of a high‑rise, shattering every pane.---Back in Europe, Supremia continues eastward with no precise destination — until she feels the ripple.Her eyes widen. Not in fear. In recognition.“There you are, little bug.”She launches into the air with terrifying speed. The ground cracks and fissures beneath her as gravity itself seems to flip, pulling her toward Denver at Mach speeds.---Lustbane races across the ocean when she feels it too. She smiles wide, licking her lips.“Wait for me, my tasty morsel. Be patient. I’m coming.”Water erupts around her as marine life is hurled skyward, pink lightning crackling across her skin.---The Laughing Shadow skips down a rural road, singing:“Mary, Mary, quite contrary,How does your garden grow?With silver bells, and cockle shells,And pretty maids all in a row—”She holds her shadow’s hand — somehow upright and walking despite being two‑dimensional.“Oh! There he is again! Basement‑god, stop being creepy and get my intro scene ready!”---In a secret underground facility, alarms blare. Red lights flash across a control room filled with technicians typing frantically.“Sir, we have another gravitational anomaly,” a tech says.A man in a military uniform approaches. “From where?”The tech swallows. “…Denver. A downtown crosswalk.”“Run it again,” the supervisor orders. “And deploy surveillance drones.”“Already did, sir.”The supervisor mutters, “Is China testing weapons? Russia? Some kind of experiment…?” looking up with worry as he eyes a bottle of tums on the console of a technician.He stares at the screens, troubled.---In Denver, Rowan steps forward — and feels it.A gravitational pull, inverted.Cars lift into the air.Birds flap desperately, dragged backward and upward.Streetlamps rip from the ground and drift skyward.Rowan feels it too.“…So, you’re real.”Supremia descends from the sky, looking down with cold arrogance — as if surveying insects. People are pulled upward, colliding with debris, crushed between cars. Others cling to slabs of concrete threatening to tear free.Supremia lands lightly, debris crashing down around her — cars smashing into buildings, streetlamps raining like spears, people screaming as the ground rushes up to meet them.She says only two words:“Don’t break.”Rowan looks up at her.“…So this isn’t stopping? It wasn’t in my mind…?”