I was parking my electric car at the gate of the community, and the order countdown on the screen of my mobile phone was flashing.
"You have a new Meituan order, please confirm it as soon as possible."
I clicked on it out of habit and glanced at the top of my head from the corner of my eye. The sky is gray, no different from usual. That's when the sound started - not heard in the ears, more like exploding directly in the brain. It was low, buzzing, like someone had stuffed their head into an empty shell.
I stuffed my phone back into my pocket and looked up.
The sky cracked.
Not a metaphor. The entire sky seemed to have been cut through by a glass knife, and a black line extended from the east to the west, opening wider and wider, revealing the pure black thing behind it. I can't tell what color it is. Anyway, it's not the blackness of the night sky, it's the kind of black that "shouldn't exist".
Then the egg sacs begin to fall out.
Transparent, fist-sized, densely packed coming out of the cracks. Some cracked in mid-air, and some shattered when they hit the ground. The old man on my left was squatting on the roadside smoking a cigarette. An egg sac landed on the back of his neck.
He cursed and reached out to pat it.
For five seconds, he melted.
