[b][i]A vaguely menacing broadcast. [/i][/b]

The end of another day. The sun was sinking, the sky was on fire with red and orange. The reflection of the fleeting day danced on the water of the bay. The city would soon be thrust into another spell of darkness. As night took over, the people and their intentions began more sinister. 

Across the city, the TVs would flicker. Was it real? Was it another power surge? Static took over for a moment before it was jarringly replaced. The imagine of a clock, silently ticking. Then, text faded in over it.

[i]Tick tock...[/i]

The image then cut away to various news reports of heroes around the city. An anchor woman stood in front of the camera, praising Hotshot for stopping a bank robbery, then switched to a man at a desk, talking about Dr. Wattz saving a woman from being kidnapped. A couple more mentions flitted across the screen before suddenly cutting to black. The jarring cut was then met with another line of words.

[i]Where were you then?[/i]

The next few clips showed the outside of a college dorm, then cut to a shitty motel, then to the outside of what looked like a bunker. It cut to black again.

[i]Where are you now? [/i]

The text faded, and the screen filled with what looked like nonsense numbers. An odd audio played over the numbers. It was like the quiet hum of a machine, with a rhythmic click every over second or so. The distinct sound of something rotating. 

[i]13050520 1305 2308051805 200805 23091404 0212152319[/i]

The text faded out to the sound of an ominously ticking clock, then the sound of a grandfather clock chiming 10 times. Then, just like that, the broadcast was over. The city was left to scratch their heads and figure out what hell it meant.