It fell in Egypt first, falling down the sky in chunks of grey ooze, landing on the pyramids with sickening smacks. The foolish tourists who risked their eyesight out of curiosity squinted past the blinding rays of the Middle Eastern sun, what they saw they would later describe as a decomposing sky. They said, to everyone’s disbelief, that the clouds were crumbling off like charred flesh. The substance was collected, tested, and reported as a weather phenomenon. That was the end of that. Two weeks later the same ooze began plunging down onto North American soil, then all around the world. It was clearly no weather phenomena.
This substance, which the world later came to know as The Unexplained, seemed harmless at first. It resided on the surface of whatever object it landed on, stuck like glue from the impact. Children poked at it with thin branches broken off trees, before their mothers cried at them to back away. Local governments advised their citizens to wear Caputis, protective headwear resembling a cowboy or straw hat made of plastic, designed by the United Nations; scientifically proven to shield the wearer’s face from The Unexplained. Citizens were also required to follow a new dress code; no skin can be vulnerable to any form of contact with said substance. The rules arose overnight, no bills had to be passed and certainly no information as to just what The Unexplained can do was released to the public, which sparked a major outrage. Environmentalists swore this was the effects of global warming, screamed, “I told you so!” in everyone’s face. In less than five days, every single person on Earth was alienated from what society had embedded into their brains as the norm. There was a breakdown of culture, beliefs, and order. Panic swarm out onto the streets from the minds and mouths of those with weak hearts. The introduction of The Unexplained had sliced the world into two: a before, and after.