MyniQ

In the depths of winter's coldest night, the grandeur of Times Square stood in stark contrast to the darkness that loomed. The clock tower reached skyward like a skeletal hand, its shadow stretching across the cityscape like an ominous omen.

As midnight approached, a peculiar fog rolled through the streets, thickening with each passing moment. It swirled around the towering buildings and ancient landmarks, whispering secrets of times long past to those who dared to listen.

The great ball, adorned with hundreds of crystal fragments that caught the last rays of sunlight, began its descent into the depths below. Its metallic skin glinted in the fading light, a cold beacon of death drawing all eyes toward it like moths to a flame.

In those final moments before the ball touched earth with a haunting clang, something ancient stirred beneath the city's surface. The fog grew thicker, more menacing, and a low rumble echoed through the streets - as if the very foundations of the city were groaning in protest.