Thrones of the Rift

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The car's warning chime screams that the car is running on fumes. While turning your attention from the road to the fuel gauge the dashboard's digital clock calls out for attention: 2:14 AM. Already aware that at the next exit there is a gas station and diner combo, the right lane perfectly guides the car towards it. Maybe it is the cooler air, but the turn signal is definitely louder than it has been. Stopping here was considered a possibility during the planning of this trip, now fate has made it a necessity. Pulling into the dusty crack-filled lot, a pump not too far from the front door but just far enough becomes the target. The engine cuts out and the car coasts into perfect alignment with the hose. There are two late-model sedans and a police cruiser in spaces near the front door. Likely regulars. Signs in the lot direct large long-haul trucks to park in the back. [[Step out of the car. |Gas_Pump]]

Looking back at the quiet off-ramp, the thought of it leading into a trap quickly passes as the brilliant night sky grabs hold. Far enough away from all the light pollution the stars and their constellations are now fully present, bringing a feeling of safety for some reason. The distance travelled to witness this reality is well worth it. A light misting of rain starts to fill the night air. The canopy over the pumps was built high for cross-country haulers, so the breeze brings a fine misting of moisture across the face when reaching for the hose. Out past the parking lot the asphalt simply ends, giving way to the vast, crusted expanse of the eerily white salt flats in the darkness, stretching toward the jagged silhouettes of the surrounding mountains. The scent of the surrounding basin fills the air: cold rainwater mixing with dry alkaline mineral dust and sulfur mud. <<linkreplace "Place the hose into the tank.">> As the hose is inserted a face stares back through the dusty back passenger window. The reflection is: <<linkreplace "A man accepting all the changes life has brought, both good and bad.">> <<set $pronoun = "he", $pronoun_obj = "him", $pronoun_poss = "his">> <<replace "#reflection-choice">> Looking directly into the eyes in the glass—this is where life led. This is where he belongs. [[Lean against the car|Car_Lean]] <</replace>> <</linkreplace>> <<linkreplace "A woman determined to make it through.">> <<set $pronoun = "she", $pronoun_obj = "her", $pronoun_poss = "her">> <<replace "#reflection-choice">> Looking directly into the eyes in the glass—nothing is stopping her from getting where she needs to be, both now and in life. [[Lean against the car|Car_Lean]] <</replace>> <</linkreplace>> <<linkreplace "A solitary driver confident but still trying to figure things out at the same time.">> <<set $pronoun = "they", $pronoun_obj = "them", $pronoun_poss = "their">> <<replace "#reflection-choice">> Looking directly into the eyes in the glass—the journey belongs to no one else, and the definition of who they truly are rests entirely on their own terms. [[Lean against the car|Car_Lean]] <</replace>> <</linkreplace>> <</linkreplace>>

:: StoryInit <<set $name = "Stranger">> <<set $pronoun = "they">> <<set $pronoun_obj = "them">> <<set $pronoun_poss = "their">> <<set $meal = "quick">> <<set $seed = "human">> <<set $static = 0>> <<set $drive = "heart">>

The faint sound of clicking from the fuel dispenser’s internal flow meter and pulser inside the pump housing runs in the background, the sound becoming a dry, rhythmic clicking that feels less like measuring fuel and more like a clock ticking down to something ominous. Eyes linger on the plastic advertising placards atop the pump, battered by alkali grit and highway sun. <<linkreplace "Look closer at the placards taped around the pump.">> A water-warped flyer inside a plexiglass display advertises 'THE END IS NEAR: PREPARE THY PATH', shoved in right beside a glossy flyer for a 24-hour truck wash. An astrologer’s card, stuck onto the outside of the plexiglass somehow, covers up the contact information of the religious flyer. There is an ad for an unfamiliar energy drink and next to that a recruitment poster urging viewers to "Aim High - Find your path today!", with a website, email address and phone number listed below a fully decked out pilot in front of an F-16 fighter jet. Beneath all of this the digital dollar readout flickers with a faint pulse of amber static. <</linkreplace>> Attention turning towards the diner, an advertisement for their specials is posted on the window next to the double glass door entryway. One calls out: <<linkreplace "\"THE TRIPLE-STACK MONSTER: Fuel up before the long haul. Serious calories for serious work.\"">> <<set $meal = "heavy">> <<replace "#ad-choice">> The pump stops with a clank that seems to echo throughout the basin. The ritual begins: return the hose, tighten up the gas cap, close the cover. Heading towards the diner, a quick glance is cast inside the car to ensure nothing important will attract the attention of any passersby. Something on the passenger seat will definitely do that: <<linkreplace "A worn leather-bound journal of spiritual notes and strange dreams.">> <<set $seed = "devoted", $static += 1>> <<replace "#seat-choice">> Grabbing the worn leather-bound journal—pages crowded with notes of the strange dreams had along with loose pages collected for months—shoving it under an arm, closing the door and activating the car alarm. [[Continue towards the diner door|Diner_Entry]] </replace>> <</linkreplace>> <<linkreplace "A black backpack that has leaked corporate reports and an encrypted flash drive shoved in between a couple changes of clothing and some toiletries.">> <<set $seed = "resistance", $static += 1>> <<replace "#seat-choice">> Looking around to make sure nobody is watching, grabbing the bag, throwing it into the trunk and activating the car alarm. [[Continue towards the diner door|Diner_Entry]] </replace>> <</linkreplace>> <<linkreplace "A small box wrapped with ribbon, a gift finally ready to be delivered.">> <<set $seed = "human", $static += 0>> <<replace "#seat-choice">> Grabbing the box, opening the trunk and placing it gently inside. Eyes linger on it for just a moment, closing the trunk and activating the car alarm. [[Continue towards the diner door|Diner_Entry]] </replace>> <</linkreplace>> </replace>> <</linkreplace>> <<linkreplace "\"LATE-NIGHT COFFEE & DONUT COMBO: Two bucks. In and out in five minutes flat.\"">> <<set $meal = "quick">> <<replace "#ad-choice">> The pump stops with a clank that seems to echo throughout the basin. The ritual begins: return the hose, tighten up the gas cap, close the cover. Heading towards the diner, a quick glance is cast inside the car to ensure nothing important will attract the attention of any passersby. Something on the passenger seat will definitely do that: <<linkreplace "A worn leather-bound journal of spiritual notes and strange dreams.">> <<set $seed = "devoted", $static += 1>> <<replace "#seat-choice">> Grabbing the worn leather-bound journal—pages crowded with notes of the strange dreams had along with loose pages collected for months—shoving it under an arm, closing the door and activating the car alarm. [[Continue towards the diner door|Diner_Entry]] </replace>> <</linkreplace>> <<linkreplace "A black backpack that has leaked corporate reports and an encrypted flash drive shoved in between a couple changes of clothing and some toiletries.">> <<set $seed = "resistance", $static += 1>> <<replace "#seat-choice">> Looking around to make sure nobody is watching, grabbing the bag, throwing it into the trunk and activating the car alarm. [[Continue towards the diner door|Diner_Entry]] </replace>> <</linkreplace>> <<linkreplace "A small box wrapped with ribbon, a gift finally ready to be delivered.">> <<set $seed = "human", $static += 0>> <<replace "#seat-choice">> Grabbing the box, opening the trunk and placing it gently inside. Eyes linger on it for just a moment, closing the trunk and activating the car alarm. [[Continue towards the diner door|Diner_Entry]] </replace>> <</linkreplace>> </replace>> <</linkreplace>> <<linkreplace "\"HOMESTYLE COMFORT: Warm apple crisp and fresh country cider. It tastes like home again.\"">> <<set $meal = "sweet">> <<replace "#ad-choice">> The pump stops with a clank that seems to echo throughout the basin. The ritual begins: return the hose, tighten up the gas cap, close the cover. Heading towards the diner, a quick glance is cast inside the car to ensure nothing important will attract the attention of any passersby. Something on the passenger seat will definitely do that: <<linkreplace "A worn leather-bound journal of spiritual notes and strange dreams.">> <<set $seed = "devoted", $static += 1>> <<replace "#seat-choice">> Grabbing the worn leather-bound journal—pages crowded with notes of the strange dreams had along with loose pages collected for months—shoving it under an arm, closing the door and activating the car alarm. [[Continue towards the diner door|Diner_Entry]] </replace>> <</linkreplace>> <<linkreplace "A black backpack that has leaked corporate reports and an encrypted flash drive shoved in between a couple changes of clothing and some toiletries.">> <<set $seed = "resistance", $static += 1>> <<replace "#seat-choice">> Looking around to make sure nobody is watching, grabbing the bag, throwing it into the trunk and activating the car alarm. [[Continue towards the diner door|Diner_Entry]] </replace>> <</linkreplace>> <<linkreplace "A small box wrapped with ribbon, a gift finally ready to be delivered.">> <<set $seed = "human", $static += 0>> <<replace "#seat-choice">> Grabbing the box, opening the trunk and placing it gently inside. Eyes linger on it for just a moment, closing the trunk and activating the car alarm. [[Continue towards the diner door|Diner_Entry]] </replace>> <</linkreplace>> </replace>> <</linkreplace>>

A vinyl booth by the window is chosen—tucked away enough to avoid notice, yet positioned close enough to keep an eye on the room. Up in the corner, another hanging television emits a low hum from the speakers instead of voices. The now live local news feed shows strange atmospheric lights appearing over the salt flats, the banner across the bottom flashing the title “Aurora Borealis?” The closed captioning reads the words of a local who talks about how they’ve never seen such a thing before. Eyes look out through the wet glass at the dark horizon. The lights are nowhere to be seen. Thoughts begin to drift into the quiet darkness: <<linkreplace "Thoughts drift toward getting affairs in order before the past catches up.">> <<set $drive = "thriller">> <<replace "#drive-choice">> The mind ticks through all the precautions taken and the loose ends that still need tying up, wondering how many miles of empty highway it really takes to outrun what was left behind. The delivery of the order snaps everything back to reality. Gaze drops down to the meal. <<if $meal is "heavy">> A mountain of eggs, bacon, and crisp hash browns. Sturdy fuel. A fork is picked up, bracing the body for whatever the next hundred miles demand. <<elseif $meal is "quick">> Two plain glazed donuts sit beside a mug of coffee black as tar. Fast, bitter, efficient. A burning sip is taken, letting the caffeine cut through the mental fog. <<else>> A warm crock of baked apples and cinnamon sits beside a glass of sweet cider. The scent fills the booth, a sharp, aching contrast to the cold highway outside. <</if>> [[The rain picks up and starts to tap the window furiously.|The_Rain_Stops]] </replace>> <</linkreplace>> <<linkreplace "The drifting thoughts suddenly turn into a gut feeling that something impossible is coming.">> <<set $drive = "mystery">> <<replace "#drive-choice">> A quiet emptiness grows within—a building certainty that the openness of the basin is calling for something massive to happen. The delivery of the order snaps everything back to reality. Gaze drops down to the meal. <<if $meal is "heavy">> A mountain of eggs, bacon, and crisp hash browns. Sturdy fuel. A fork is picked up, bracing the body for whatever the next hundred miles demand. <<elseif $meal is "quick">> Two plain glazed donuts sit beside a mug of coffee black as tar. Fast, bitter, efficient. A burning sip is taken, letting the caffeine cut through the mental fog. <<else>> A warm crock of baked apples and cinnamon sits beside a glass of sweet cider. The scent fills the booth, a sharp, aching contrast to the cold highway outside. <</if>> [[The rain picks up and starts to tap the window furiously.|The_Rain_Stops]] </replace>> <</linkreplace>> <<linkreplace "A sudden sense of peace washes over the physical body, all muscles relaxing all at once.">> <<set $drive = "heart">> <<replace "#drive-choice">> A quiet warmth settles in the chest. The path taken simply feels right. The delivery of the order snaps everything back to reality. Gaze drops down to the meal. <<if $meal is "heavy">> A mountain of eggs, bacon, and crisp hash browns. Sturdy fuel. A fork is picked up, bracing the body for whatever the next hundred miles demand. <<elseif $meal is "quick">> Two plain glazed donuts sit beside a mug of coffee black as tar. Fast, bitter, efficient. A burning sip is taken, letting the caffeine cut through the mental fog. <<else>> A warm crock of baked apples and cinnamon sits beside a glass of sweet cider. The scent fills the booth, a sharp, aching contrast to the cold highway outside. <</if>> [[The rain picks up and starts to tap the window furiously.|The_Rain_Stops]] </replace>> <</linkreplace>>

The rain picks up slightly, the weight of the glass entry doors heavier than expected. A bell clinks overhead, cutting through the quiet scrape of silverware and the smell of hot coffee. On the television hanging over the waiting area, a news anchor debates a panel of people in suits. One pundit argues that recent atmospheric anomalies are military testing covered up by the federal government; another claims it is an unheralded natural sign demanding national prayer and repentance; a third proposes a theory that it is being caused by climate change. The crawler at the bottom cycles through familiar headlines: congressional stalemates, power grid vulnerabilities, and protests outside state capitols and corporate offices. A manager looks up from behind the register. <<linkreplace "Approach the cash register.">> "Is there something we can fix up for ya, or will it be just the gas?" <<if $meal is "heavy">> "Pump three," comes the reply, a hand reaching for a wallet. "And the Triple-Stack Monster special." <<elseif $meal is "quick">> "Pump three," comes the reply, a hand reaching for a wallet. "And the coffee and donut combo." <<else>> "Pump three," comes the reply, a hand reaching for a wallet. "And the homestyle apple crisp." <</if>> "Say no more, honey." She taps the register keys with practiced ease. "I'll need to get a card up front for the gas and food." The card is handed over. "What name should I put on the ticket?" Enter the name: <<textbox "$name" "" autofocus>> <<button "Hand over the card">> <<if $name.trim() is "">> <<set $name = "Stranger">> <</if>> <<replace "#counter-response">> She hands the card back. “Thanks, $name. Take any seat you want, the order will be right out.” [[Head over to a booth by the window.|Diner_Booth]] <</replace>> <</button>> <</linkreplace>>

The protection of the diner from the sudden heavy downpour brings a wave of relief over making the stop. This driving rain would definitely make traveling the highway dangerous at this time of night, and there is a quiet peace found in the shelter of the room at this exact moment. The feeling of normalcy is welcomed. Across the aisle, an off-duty state trooper drinks his black coffee in silence. His radio crackles with bursts of static and frantic, half-intelligible dispatches, but his eyes stay fixed on the countertop, maintaining the posture of a man just trying to make it to retirement. Two booths down, long-haul truckers lightly argue over whether the highway closures are government overreach or a genuine national emergency, using language that at times makes anyone nearby shake their head. At the counter sits one lone man wearing wrinkled black slacks, a short-sleeved, once-white but now off-white collared shirt, and a loose black tie, murmuring silently as he reads a Bible propped next to cold plain toast. In a way, it feels like everyone is frozen mid-stride, waiting for a clarity that never seems to come. Life has become this. For years, the country has felt stretched thin, divided by sermons, screens, and bitter certainties; everyone convinced their neighbor is either willfully blind or dangerously unhinged. It has all become normalized. Eyes look out the rain-streaked window at the dark basin, realizing that beneath the arguments, it's the same quiet panic in every throat: the fear that the systems meant to hold the world together simply aren't strong enough to do so anymore. The realization hits that sitting here, nursing lukewarm coffee and waiting for the rain to pass, won't steady the ground underneath. Paralysis disguised as patience is still just a form of giving up. Right or wrong, blind or clear-eyed, only action breaks the stalemate. The rain stops. Not gradually, but instantaneously, [[as if someone shut off a valve. |The_Hum]]

The wind that once drove the downpour dies along with it, leaving the basin in an unnatural, vacuum-tight silence. The hum of the TV in the corner becomes a shrill, piercing tone, climbing higher and higher until the speakers pop, a smell of scorched solder and wire insulation wafts over the table. The screen blossoms into a solid bright white picture that blows out the picture-tube. The salt flats ignite outside of the window. There is no sound. No thunder. No roar. There is only the absolute, blinding erasure of everything known to be out there, swallowed by the light. From ionosphere to lakebed, the sky splits like sheared crystal. A pillar of solar brilliance emanates from the earth, radiating pure, divine light skyward. The blinding light subsides and, as vision finally returns, the ancient expanse of the Bonneville basin viewed through the window—trillions of tons of halite, gypsum, and alkaline mud—has changed dramatically. [[The white desert has vitrified.|The_Sea]]

A sea of mirror-like glass spreads, a resonant, somewhat muted sound, like a struck church bell, fills the air as razor-sharp fulgurite spires erupt toward the clouds. The blinding light has evaporated any moisture off the asphalt and the cars into clouds of hissing steam. As the eruptions begin to slow and vision returns to normal, instinct takes over: <<linkreplace "Take in the magnificence of the change. It feels like an answered prayer.">> <<set $static += 1>> <<replace "#reaction-choice">> The radiance holds absolute sway, locking the gaze in place. The chest aches with an overwhelming, breathless resonance, like the pulse has finally synced with the true frequency of the universe. There is a profound sense of being chosen. [[Something greater has begun.|The_Aftermath]] <</replace>> <</linkreplace>> <<linkreplace "Dive under the table, scanning the diner for a way out.">> <<set $static += 1>> <<replace "#reaction-choice">> A shoulder slams hard against the restaurant floor. Eyes flick between the shattered front doors, the cook's counter, and the rear fire exit. Whatever that was, it wasn't natural, and it isn't friendly. [[Survival starts now.|The_Aftermath]] <</replace>> <</linkreplace>> <<linkreplace "Freeze, eyes wide, struggling to hold onto who the person was five minutes ago.">> <<set $static += 0>> <<replace "#reaction-choice">> Hands grip the edge of the table so hard the knuckles turn white, previously relaxed muscles tightening up all at once. The body refuses to move for a long, frozen second. Thoughts race back to the car keys, back to the road traveled only moments ago. Deep inside the chest, the heart still beats to an ordinary human rhythm. Anchoring to that steady pulse eventually breaks the paralysis, allowing control to return. [[Let's go.|The_Aftermath]] <</replace>> <</linkreplace>>

The deafening silence returns. Beyond the shattered glass of the diner, the Salt Flats are gone. In their place lies a vast, chime-ringing desert of pale, crystalline mirror-glass, glowing with an eerie internal twilight under a now dark, fractured sky. The light it emits cuts a clear path toward the vehicle parked outside. A long-held breath finally escapes, breaking the quiet as a step is taken out through the empty frame that once held those heavy glass doors. Then the realization truly hits. The old world is dead. A dash is made for the car, brushing away as much glass from the shattered windows as possible before climbing into the front seat and sliding the key into the ignition. The turn is made. The car doesn't even try to start. Another attempt yields nothing. Dead silence. Through the empty frame where the windshield used to be, an impossible world reflects back across the crystalline expanse. [[Step out to look across the basin.|Prologue_End]]

The blast didn't just burn the flats; it reconstituted them. The ancient lakebed, filled with millions of tons of halite, gypsum, and silica mud, has flash-melted under an incomprehensible thermal surge, fusing into a continuous, pale sheet that stretches to the horizon like frozen water. In the places where the lightning-like arcs of radiant energy had grounded straight into the bedrock, hollow spires of jagged fulgurite jut into the cold air like jagged white ribs, venting faint coils of iridescent steam. The heat rising from the basin warps the air in shimmering waves, but the glass itself is already cooling, setting with a brittle, crystalline ring that vibrates through the frame of the dead vehicle. Under the torn, starless clouds, the vitrified floor catches what little light remains, throwing back a dull, milky glow that blinds the eyes if stared at too long. A sharp crunch under heavy boots draws the gaze toward the parking lot edge. The off-duty state trooper stands at the border where the asphalt gave way to the basin. He reaches down, gingerly touching the melted rim where pavement and salt fused into an iridescent, razor-sharp shelf. When he looks up, his face is as pale as the mineral dust clinging to his uniform. The other diner patrons begin to emerge, stepping into this new environment like ghosts. No one speaks. The longer the scene is observed, the more apparent it becomes: this is a throne of glass, and the edge of it is where humanity now stands. Then, from the dead center of the basin, the glass begins to chime. Miles out where the pillar of light first split the earth, the rising heat and steam bend into an impossible, towering silhouette. It doesn't move. It simply exists against the dark horizon, radiant and deliberate, sovereign over the expanse. No voice breaks the silence, yet a presence reverberates through the glass and settles into the mind like cold iron. A name, resting just beneath the surface, waiting to be known: — A E T H E L I S — Whatever has arrived to claim this throne, it is waiting for the world to answer. <hr> END OF PROLOGUE [[What Lies Beyond the Basin|Epilogue]]

"To be yourself in a world that is constantly trying to make you something else is the greatest accomplishment." - Ralph Waldo Emerson [[Start|Prologue_Start]]

The cataclysm at the Salt Flats was only the beginning. How will you answer the fracture? <<if $seed is "devoted">> You felt the hum before the sky broke, and the silhouette on the glass was looking for you. <<elseif $seed is "resistance">> The blackout confirms what your leaked reports warned about—and the authorities here are already closing ranks. <<else>> The road home is gone, and surviving Ground Zero means holding onto the promises you made before the world ended. <</if>> When the sky split over the Bonneville basin, it shattered more than the desert floor—it broke the world’s fragile consensus. With the grid dark and civilization collapsing into raw belief: <ul> <li>The Devout see a holy reckoning, demanding obedience to the signs descending from the rift.</li> <li>The State & Syndicates treat the event as an act of war, weaponizing panic into martial law and ruthless containment.</li> <li>The Survivors are caught in the crossfire, desperate to protect the people they love before humanity is swallowed by dogma.</li> </ul> You are stranded at Ground Zero. Will you kneel before the revelation, resist the rising tyrannies, or fight simply to keep your humanity intact? In Thrones of the Rift, conviction is your greatest weapon—and your deadliest liability. <hr> <a href="https://www.thronesoftherift.com/blog" target="_blank" class="link-external" style="font-size: 1.2em; font-weight: bold;"> >> Get updates on the future release of Chapter 1: The Book of Aethelis << </a> Continuing the Journey <ul> <li>The Living World: Track past anomalies, active storylines, and rift projections at <a href="https://www.thronesoftherift.com" target="_blank" class="link-external">ThronesOfTheRift.com</a>.</li> <li>Development Updates: Follow on itch.io to receive release logs for concurrent Rift modules.</li> </ul> <<link "Play Again / Restart Prologue">> <<run State.reset(); Engine.play(Config.passages.start)>> <</link>>