
They told them the Dome was protection. It was a cage. In Sector Twelve, the morning broadcast never changes: curfew, compliance, and the promise that the cure is near. When the sky itself begins to crack and the announcements repeat out of time, Rowen...

The broadcast plays every morning. The cure is near. The count moves forward. Everything is fine. Rowen Hale has spent his life maintaining the mist systems that keep Sector Twelve breathing. He's never questioned the numbers - until the day counter stops moving...