THE FRACTA: The Beginning of the Collapse
Prologue
If the word FRACTA doesn’t stir something in you…
Congratulations. You’re not awake yet.
Everything begins with What?
And ends with—What the hell was that?
Have you ever dreamed something that later came true?
Felt a déjà vu that cut too sharp, too precise—like a memory you weren’t supposed to have?
Planned a conversation in your head, only to live it word for word?
We call it instinct. Coincidence. Overthinking. Lies.
Pretty words to make you ignore the cracks.
But what if none of those labels are real?
What if reality itself… isn’t?
What if every strange moment wasn’t random—
but a fragment bleeding through?
Pieces of something hidden.
Something your mind was never meant to touch.
The world you trust is a mask.
One day, it cracks.
And when it did—
People saw what lay beneath.
The actual reality.
The one we were never meant to see.
What happened after?
Did the world end?
Forget?
Adapt?
You’ll have to keep reading.
If you think this is just fiction—
good. That means the Filter still works.
You’ve already begun your Collapse.
You won’t even notice when it happens.
Ch-1
Normal is the most dangerous illusion of all.
The end didn’t arrive with fire.
It arrived with fractures.
The sky split like brittle glass—cracks spiderwebbing outward, alive, jagged, endless—as if the heavens themselves were screaming through wounds no one could mend.
The air misbehaved. Gusts stuttered like broken signals before roaring to life, tearing the world apart.
Rain didn’t fall.
It slashed.
Every drop was a blade. It sliced skin raw.
Trees tore from their roots. Cars twisted like foil.
Were swallowed whole by the storm.
And where the sky fractured, the streets followed.
Hairline cracks crept beneath trembling feet, widening, yawning—bottomless. Asphalt peeled like paper seams. Towers lurched, shuddered, and collapsed into the black infinity below.
For a fleeting second, the world held its breath.
A silence so heavy it felt like the calm before the next scream.
And in the middle of it all
A slight figure, barely in her twenties. Fists trembling. Blood streaked her temple. Ash clung to her torn clothes.
Her head hung low, black hair veiling her face.
Shinha Zee Benthra
*She looked up, drawn by the sound of approaching footsteps.*
Shinha Zee Benthra
*Her eyes—deep blue, once full of galaxies—now reflected only void.*
Across the storm, another figure emerged—tall, lean, his red sneakers caked in mud and ash.
Each step echoed unnaturally loud, as if time itself hesitated around him.
The hem of his long yellow coat whipped in the storm wind, a lone streak of color against the ruin.
yellow coat man
*He adjusted a crooked tie—never once worn straight. Chaos, but curated.*
yellow coat man
So....
*He said, calm as if resuming a paused call*
yellow coat man
Still not giving up?
Shinha Zee Benthra
*Her jaw tightened. Nails bit into her palms.
She hated how normal his voice sounded—like this was routine, like her fury was just another performance for him to enjoy.
*
Shinha Zee Benthra
Why?
*she demanded, voice cracking.*
Shinha Zee Benthra
Why are you doing this? Haven’t you destroyed enough?
*Her voice trembled—not from fear, but from fury barely contained.*
yellow coat man
*He didn’t blink. Didn’t slow. His grin widened—monstrous.
*
This wasn’t their first argument.
yellow coat man
Destroyed?
*he echoed softly.*
yellow coat man
No, Shinha.
yellow coat man
I didn’t destroy it. You’re the one who broke it.
Shinha’s eyes flickered—just for a heartbeat.
She wanted to deny it. To scream.
But she couldn’t. Because deep down, she knew he was right.
And that truth burned from within.
The air between them pulsed—heavy, electric.
Even the lightning seemed to hold its breath.
Shinha Zee Benthra
*She rubbed her nose with her index finger.
An old habit. Thoughtless.
And smiled.*
Something fractured inside her—quieter than glass, sharper than thought.
Her laugh followed—a grinding, metallic sound that scraped the air.
It wasn’t human.
And for the first time, the man’s pupils shrank.
Because he recognized that laugh.
And he knew what it meant.
Before she could move, a familiar sound echoed inside their minds.
They froze. Eyes widened.
And whispered in unison—
Ch-2
The world convulsed. Light folded. Sound imploded.
The storm hung mid-air. Debris floated, motionless. Raindrops froze—suspended like glass beads.
Even her heartbeat faltered, unsure if it should move forward or back.
Slowly, impossibly, the world began to rewind.
Towers rose from rubble. Cracked streets stitched themselves together.
Screams reversed into silence. Time folded in on itself, like a film reel spinning backward.
But this wasn’t restoration.
Reality was trying to erase what it couldn’t contain.
And within that collapsing silence,
Weirdly human, yet not. Its tone was rustic, glitching, neither male nor female—something between a whisper and static.
Mysterious voice
To understand why it shattered... we must return.
Mysterious voice
To the silence.
Mysterious voice
To the first crack.
Mysterious voice
To the.... beginning.
Back to where the cracks hadn’t yet formed—
to an ordinary day, pretending to be harmless.
In a cramped room, the hum of a laptop broke the stillness.
A young woman sat at her desk, black hair tied in a messy bun, headphones on.
She typed lazily, yawning, one hand scratching her head.
Then suddenly, she straightened. Fingers blurred across the keyboard like a hacker cracking a code.
But she wasn’t saving the world—just finishing a college assignment.
Her desk was a battlefield of half-empty mugs, scribbled notes, and a flickering lamp that buzzed every few seconds.
Then she stopped. The burst of energy drained away as fast as it came.
She leaned back, hands dangling over the sides of her chair, sighing.
Her eyes drifted to her phone.
Shinha Zee Benthra
Ugh… when will this ever end? The teacher piled on way too many assignments.
Frustration was clear in her tone. But it wasn’t the teacher’s fault—she was the one who had delayed the work, and now she was struggling to finish everything right before the deadline.
Shinha Zee Benthra
Five minutes,
*she mumbled*
Shinha Zee Benthra
Just a quick power nap… It won’t affect anything.
But who was she fooling? Her five minutes never lasted less than a few hours.
For her, sleep wasn’t just rest.
It was comfort. Escape. Emotion.
An emotion that had already caused her enough trouble—
and one more problem was about to join the list, thanks to this “quick nap.”
She removed her headphones. The chair scraped the floor as she pushed back.
Tossing her phone onto the side table, she stretched, stifling a yawn.
The room was dim—curtains drawn, faint sunlight leaking through the gaps.
A fan whirred overhead, slow and tired.
As she turned toward the bed,
Shinha Zee Benthra
*She froze.*
Something rang in her mind—a faint sound, unknown yet familiar.
A chill brushed against her skin, raising goosebumps along her arms—like breath at the back of her neck.
Shinha Zee Benthra
*Her deep-blue eyes flicked toward the corner of the room.*
Shinha Zee Benthra
*A brittle laugh escaped her lips.*
Shinha Zee Benthra
What was that feeling?
I think I really do need that nap.
*she muttered, brushing off the strange unease.*
Shinha Zee Benthra
*She climbed into bed and drifted off.*
She didn’t notice the phone screen.
Symbols flickered—spirals, lines, things no clock should show.
A face bled into the glow.
unknown
*A crooked grin, half-hidden by strands of black hair. It stared.
The grin widened... wider—
*
Until the display snapped to black.
The fan stopped.
The room fell silent.
And the first crack appeared
So faint shinha almost didn’t hear it.
A sound like glass quietly splintering inside the walls.
And somewhere behind that silence...
something began to remember.
Download NovelToon APP on App Store and Google Play
