The first sign of catastrophe was the silence.
Across seventeen dimensions, the cosmic background hum of consciousness—that subtle vibration of thinking beings existing, dreaming, hoping—began to falter. What had once been a symphony of infinite minds harmonizing across reality became a discordant melody, then scattered notes, then... nothing.
Reed stood at the epicenter of this growing void, his form no longer entirely human. Shadow and light writhed beneath his skin like living tattoos, and where his tears fell, reality itself began to bleed. The cosmic awareness that had shattered his sanity now turned outward, seeking to share its terrible revelation with every conscious being in existence.
"I can save them all," Reed whispered, his voice carrying harmonics that made the fabric of space-time shiver. "Every thinking creature, every awareness trapped in the cage of its own existence. I can give them the peace they've never known."