53 Weather

 The sun had barely risen over Nicosia, casting a soft, golden hue across the city. The streets were still, with only the occasional rustle of leaves stirred by a gentle breeze. It was February 25, 2025—a day that would unfold with the promise of early spring. As the city awoke, the weather mirrored the tranquility of the morning. The sky was a canvas of clouds and sun, a typical February scene in Nicosia. The temperature hovered around 50°F (10°C), a reminder that winter's chill still lingered in the air. The forecast predicted a high of 54°F (12°C) and a low of 35°F (2°C), suggesting a day that would gradually warm, yet retain a crispness in the air. In the heart of the city, the old town of Nicosia began to stir. The narrow, cobblestone streets, lined with traditional Cypriot houses, echoed with the sounds of daily life. Shopkeepers opened their doors, and the aroma of freshly baked bread wafted through the air. The blend of modernity and tradition was evident, as sleek cars pas...

 The weather had been restless in the town of Greystone, a place where seasons once changed in harmony. Now, the skies remained trapped in an unnatural state—a pale, endless twilight, neither day nor night. Edwin Hale, the town’s astronomer, stood atop the abandoned observatory , his telescope aimed at the sky that refused to reveal its stars. He had spent years charting the celestial patterns, but now they had vanished, leaving only an empty abyss above. "The sky isn’t broken," he murmured, adjusting the lens. "It’s been hidden." A sudden gust of wind rattled the windchimes hanging outside, their eerie melody filling the silence. He turned to find Lillian Moore, the town’s historian, clutching an ancient tome bound in dark leather. "You need to see this," she said, placing the book before him. The pages were filled with diagrams of the sky, strange sigils, and an entry dated over a century ago: "When the veil descends, the sky will no longer belon...