If someone told you that the end of the world would be brought about by a rainstorm, they would laugh and think of you as a psychopath. Now, they would just admit that you were right. Well, if any of them were alive to tell the tale.
That was how Earth's population was decreased from twelve billion to a mere 700 million humans, most of them suffering by what is known as the Seven Thaumas. Earth has always believed in the supernatural. They have made movies of it. They have even tried making inventions that could copy these same superpowers. But when the First Thauma happened, known to the surviving humans as the Ashven Blood Rain, or ABR in short, humanity realized that having the concept of supernatural abilities was a curse.
Exactly ten years ago, on the 3rd of June, 2115, Earth experienced an extinction event. Rain made out of glowing blue drops fell from the sky and annihilated billions. Of course, no one escaped the rain because it fell everyday for 42 whole days.
It was not that serious at first but as the days went on, flora began to wilt and die. Animals turned into nothing but weakened husks as if it drained their vitality. And soon, humanity experienced it and by then, the drops had already evaporated into vapor. No one could escape its wrath.
Humans would fall sick. Hospitals were full. News outlets said that the illness was extremely rare and no cure was found. By the time the 42nd day was over, 11 billion 300 million humans died from it. And of course, the system changed as well.
It was a massacre during the 42 days. Political leaders died and dictators took over, only for them to actually die afterwards. Others made cults, saying that humanity was being punished by the earth itself for not conserving it. Religious factions blamed their deities for letting them die. Either way, humanity was doomed.
And then, on the 43rd day, an angel descended from the heavens. I still remember what she said to the rest of humanity through some form of hologram to broadcast her speech. And as for me, I saw her face up close. Well, her figure, actually.
The Angel's Revelation happened on July 16th, 2115.
I still remember it.
That cursed sky was clear for the first time in weeks. The rain had stopped. No more glowing droplets turning to death vapor, no more screaming, no more bodies falling mid-stride like puppets with cut strings. Just silence.
A soft, golden glow shimmered into being right in the middle of the city ruins, casting eerie shadows against collapsed buildings and the mountain of ash that used to be people. She didn't fall from the heavens. She formed like a divine mirage flickering into the shape of a woman not meant for this Earth.
She hovered, six wings outstretched and unmoving. Her long hair was hidden beneath a flowing veil that defied the breeze, untouched by gravity. And her face... by the abandoned gods, her face. Or rather, the lack of it.
A silver visor covered everything from her forehead down to the curve of her lips.
And then she spoke not in any language I'd ever heard. It wasn't even in my head, exactly. Every word she said echoed through time and space like it had already been spoken long ago and we were just catching up.
"Children of the Showered World, the divine has not forsaken you.
You are alive because you were chosen."
Those words crushed me. Chosen? For what? To suffer? To rot among corpses while the sky poured poison?
But she wasn't done. Her wings flared just slightly and the light sharpened. Her next words rattled through the rubble, through every satellite still clinging to life, through every commlink, screen, radio frequency.
The world was forced to listen.
"You were meant to fall. And yet, you did not. For your endurance, you have earned audience with your new gods."
A murmur passed through what was left of the crowd around me. People—what few remained—watching her from windows, ruins, sewer grates, EVERYWHERE. No one dared speak. We knew instinctively that silence was sacred here.
"The storm you call a curse... was but a trial."
Then came the moment I will never forget, not for the rest of my miserable life. She opened her arms wide, wings glowing with veins of sapphire light, and said its name.
"Ashven Blood Rain. The First Thauma."
There was something final in the way she said it. Like a bell tolling for the dead And a warning for the living.
"There shall be seven Thaumas in total. Seven Calamities that will scour this realm clean of its decay. You, survivors of the Ashven, have proven your worth, not by strength, not by virtue, but by mere contact."
She paused, and I swear the light dimmed just slightly.
"The rain did not spare you. It marked you. Measured you. And now, you are changed. Your flesh has absorbed its sorrow. Your bones have absorbed its memory. And your soul... has unlocked its potential."
And that's when people around me began to realize something was wrong. One man behind me started glowing faintly. His fingers turning translucent, veins alight like stars in his skin. A woman fell to her knees and her shadow split into three, all moving with her, but not in sync. Fluxes—we call them that now—were manifesting in real time.
The angel paid it no mind. She was unbothered like she had done this before.
"The Ashven fed you. The more you bathed in it, the more you drank its truth, the more power now courses through you. This is your reward—and your burden. Each of you carries a fragment of divine design. Some will create. Others will destroy. But none shall return to what you were."
And then her final words struck the world like a guillotine.
"Mark this day, mortals. In ten years' time, the Second Thauma shall awaken. And this time... the gods will not be so merciful.
Prepare. Or perish."
She began to dissolve. Not into dust but into particles of refracted light, like breaking glass in slow motion. One by one, her wings flickered out. And then she was gone.
And ever since that day, her words have been carved into stone, whispered in ruined streets, and replayed on every surviving device.
"Prepare. Or perish."
Ten years later, I'm still not sure which one we've chosen. That was, until July 16th, 2125, when the Hydrides of Doom came to our world.