The silence was no longer unsettling; it was absolute. The children were gone from the square. The fishing boats remained, untouched, their shadows stretching long in the afternoon sun. Even the wind seemed to hold its breath.

Ragnar watched the children playing in the square, their laughter thin and brittle in the crisp air. Usually, their games were boisterous, echoing off the colorful houses of their town. Today, a strange tension hung over them, their play subdued, their eyes darting nervously.

The aurora danced across the sky above a remote village in Northern Norway, a celestial ballet masking the subtle tremors on the ground. Not the earth shifting, but something far more insidious.