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A repetitive ringing echoed throughout the small apartment, the sound of an alarm. Marcus was already awake however, his eyes staring into the blackness of space. A small picture frame lay face down on the bedside table next to him with the name "Isla" scribbled on the back clumsily in permanent marker. The edges of the frame were chipped and the glass itself was cracked. Seeing the frame, he hides it away in one of the drawers underneath. He had to focus on his work, his family had to wait. Suit. Tie. Glasses. He doesn't have to look in the mirror to know that he looks like garbage, but doing so confirms it. With the help of water, he manages to straighten out most of his messy black hair. He pushes back his glasses back upon the bridge of his nose, his pale complexion reflecting off the lenses. The usual routine, the same one that ends with him walking out of his empty apartment. A short drive takes him to his destination. The Bureau of Meteorology, Darwin Branch.

Even at one o'clock in the morning, the lights still leaked out of the windows of the building. It's white walls and tinted windows which stretched down the length of the two floors. Marcus trudged begrudgingly right into the main office, said his hello's and hi's and made a beeline to the "Atmospheric Phenomenon Research Facility". Upon reaching the facility, he was greeted with an intimidating metallic door. The door opened with a heavy groan, an empty, darkened room waiting for him.

He quickly sat himself down, starting by researching the most recent auroras. The recent occurrences had seemed completely random, just like the rest of them with no obvious pattern to when the auroras appeared and disappeared. Marcus knew that they had to be triggered by something. But what? Midway through analysing these new auroras, his phone buzzed again. Misty, his daughter. He quickly answered the phone.

"Yes, Misty?"

"Dad! Mummy wanted to call you.", she yelled.

"I'll be home later, just go sit with mum for me" He switches the phone off and tucks it in his pocket.

Marcus sat sprawled in his office, glancing absentmindedly towards the bright monitors. The news for yesterday flickered in front of him. "AURORAS APPEAR AGAIN IN NIGHT SKY", "HIGH SCHOOL STUDENT THROWS HERSELF OFF BUILDING" "SEVEN CAR PILE UP ON PORPHYRIA RD"

The same morbid news told in the same morbid way. It was always the auroras and the deaths and the tragedies. "Nothing more, nothing less.", he pondered, "Hold on, nothing more?"

Sitting on his chair, he rolled over to the monitors and typed three words into the search bar: RECENT AURORA PHENOMENON

A list of results popped up instantly, a day ago, three days ago, seven days ago. On the monitor beside him, he logged into the Australian Bureau of Statistics. Again he typed in three words: RECENT DEATHS DARWIN.

A death today, a day, three days, four days, seven days ago. Putting them alongside each other, he could see a trend forming. Most of

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