Robert Square

Chapter One: The Sting of Eternity At 3:17 a.m., the world screamed. A sharp, electric zing—straight out of a neon-soaked ‘80s sci-fi fever dream—ripped through every home on Earth. It wasn’t just sound; it was a blade, slicing through reality, rattling teeth, and making hearts stutter. In every kitchen, bedroom, and dive-bar bathroom, the air curdled, then tore open. From the rifts slithered the Wurg-hot—quivering, brown globs of cosmic filth, each the size of a car.