In a quiet Nebraska town, where nothing strange ever happens, something begins to stir. Animals flee the forests. Time bends oddly on back roads. People report waking nightmares—shared hallucinations of things that couldn’t possibly be real: bleeding skies, their dead loved ones whispering ancient words, and mirrors cracking when they lie.

Enter Dean and Sam Winchester. The hunters are no strangers to oddities, but this town has a flavor of wrong that neither of them can name. The EMF’s off the charts, salt lines aren’t holding, and even their angelic contacts are radio silent.

Meanwhile, S.H.I.E.L.D. picks up an energy surge so dense and layered, it doesn’t fit any known category. Not alien. Not magical. Not even gamma or cosmic. It feels sentient—watching, waiting, afraid. Director Fury dispatches the Avengers. Their orders: recon only. But once they arrive, the town begins to break further.

At the heart of it all?

A girl.

Seventeen-year-old Evelyn Grace Whitmore.

Blonde-haired, soft-spoken, always volunteering at the animal shelter and bringing baked goods to her neighbors. She still prays before bed. Still writes thank-you cards. Her soul, if you looked at it, would be blinding white.

But she’s the source.

Not that she knows it.

Evelyn has no idea that her very existence warps reality. That her emotions alter physics. That when she dreams, those dreams slip into other people’s minds and make themselves real. That her “imaginary friend” from childhood—who she believed she let go of—is still lingering, growing stronger, feeding off her subconscious and becoming something monstrous.

She just wants to go to prom.

But now she’s got the Winchesters watching her from the shadows. The Avengers in her school pretending to be substitute teachers and janitors. Something ancient whispering from within her—something that remembers being worshiped as a god.