Right after the sound of objects cutting through the sky, the tremors from the impacts followed as they hit the ground. The floor vibrated under Paulo’s feet, and to his astonishment, the sea—visible from his spot at the bar—began to stir restlessly. It was a surreal scene: the ocean, usually calm at that hour of the night, started moving in an unusual way, with waves much larger than usual, some even crashing near the bar.

There had never been a history of tsunamis in his city. In fact, none had been recorded since before the country's founding. Sure, there were old stories of whale bones being found near the hill, miles from the beach, but that was chalked up to geological events from a distant past.

However, this time, it wasn’t an earthquake causing the phenomenon. Meteoroids were hitting the ocean, and no one had any idea of the extent of the damage it might cause.

Paulo looked around. The people at the bar were frozen, many with their eyes glued to the sky or their phones, trying to figure out what was happening. He had no idea how many of these celestial objects were falling around him, both on land and at sea, and that uncertainty only heightened the growing tension. “If this keeps up, the city could turn into a fucking war zone,” he thought, trying to keep calm.

Still, he didn’t hear any emergency sirens. Nothing on his phone indicated any official warnings. This made him relax a little. Maybe the situation wasn’t that bad after all. I mean, if a tsunami or something worse were on the way, surely the government would send out an alert, right? He turned to the waitress, who was still clinging to his arm like a desperate sloth.

“Not even those corrupt bastards would be crazy enough not to issue an emergency alert if a tsunami or something worse was happening, right?” he joked, half-heartedly trying to lighten the mood. The girl didn’t reply immediately, but her grip on his arm loosened slightly. He felt the sting of her nails digging in, but he said nothing. A band-aid and a little water would fix that. Deep down, the contact didn’t really bother him. In a world where everything seemed to be falling apart, that close touch was almost comforting.

His mind started to calm down, and he was ready to enjoy the night in the best way possible: finishing his beer and eating his chicken strips with fries. “If the world’s going to end, might as well go out with a full stomach,” he joked to himself. But then, all the lights went out. The entire bar was plunged into total darkness. A complete blackout. People started murmuring nervously again.

“Great, a blackout. Well, at least it’ll be easier to watch the comet now,” he thought, trying to stay optimistic. He was already getting used to the series of weird events that night. “If everything’s going to shit, at least give me a good view of the comet,” he grumbled, as he sat down again to finish his drink.

As he looked up at the sky, he noticed something strange: a fog was beginning to form. That wasn’t too unusual for this time of year, but the speed at which the fog spread was unsettling. It covered the sky and began to obscure even the stars that had been shining so brightly just moments before.

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

With few options, Paulo grabbed his phone to try and keep watching the live stream about the comet. At the very least, he could get more information about what was going on. The presenter, who had been merely nervous before, now seemed genuinely terrified. He was talking about the magnitude of the impacts. In Paulo’s city, things didn’t seem too bad, but in other parts of the world, the destruction was massive. Videos of giant craters and forest fires flashed on the screen during the broadcast.

The presenter, broadcasting from the state capital, just over an hour’s drive from Paulo’s city, was reporting multiple points of destruction around the world. There were reports of meteoroids falling into the craters of volcanoes, triggering sudden eruptions, and others hitting power plants, causing mass blackouts. It was like the world was being bombarded from all sides.

Given the number of meteoroids falling, it wasn’t surprising that the catastrophes were on such a large scale. “Well, at least my week wasn’t as bad as those people's,” Paulo thought with his trademark sarcastic humor. “Nothing’s happened to me or anyone I know yet.” He took a long sip of his beer, enjoying the fact that it was still ice-cold.

As the live stream began to show impact sites around the world, Paulo’s phone suddenly died. “Of course this piece of shit would stop working now,” he muttered. He looked around. With no electricity, there was no way to charge the phone, and the blackout looked like it was going to last. “Well, might as well finish my beer and head home. Who knows if the meeting with the dean will still happen tomorrow, assuming the world doesn’t end first,” he said aloud, getting up from the table.

He went to the bar to pay his bill, but another surprise awaited him. The banking system was down, and the bar couldn’t process payments. “Lucky me, then,” he mumbled, pleased that he didn’t have to cough up any cash at that moment. “Seems like things are looking up after all,” he whispered as he walked out of the bar.

Upon stepping outside, Paulo noticed that the fog had thickened even more. It was almost like smoke, and the air had a strange metallic smell. The number of people on the street had increased, but what surprised him most was that no one was holding their phones anymore. In fact, some people were carrying candles—something he never expected to see in this day and age. He passed by a group of people speaking in hushed voices. “No phones work, not even the radios,” someone said.

Paulo frowned. “How the hell do radios not work?” he thought. One thing was the transmission towers being hit, but the devices not turning on was a whole different story. Something much bigger was happening, and he was starting to feel a chill down his spine.

When he got to his building, he saw the doorman, André, rushing out with his bike, almost breaking the gate as he left.

“Hey, André! What’s the rush? It’s pitch black out there. Wouldn’t it be better to wait until tomorrow morning to head home? I didn’t see a single car on the streets while I was walking back from the bar,” Paulo shouted, trying to understand the doorman’s behavior.

“Hey, Paulo. Things are quiet here in the neighborhood, but I’ve got a bad feeling. It might be different at home. Better get there now before it’s too late. If someone breaks in and steals my stuff, then I’ll really regret it,” André replied, clearly nervous.

Without waiting for a response, André pedaled down the street, disappearing into the ever-thickening darkness. Paulo stood there for a moment, watching the doorman vanish into the night. Something very strange was happening, and he had no idea what the next few hours would bring.

He entered the building, feeling a growing heaviness in the air. The lights were out, and the silence was absolute, except for the sound of the wind outside, which now seemed stronger. “Well, I’ll go to sleep. Tomorrow’s another day. Or at least, I hope it is.”

Paulo slowly climbed the stairs, unaware that the events of that night were just the beginning of something much, much bigger.