A metal box, built from copper rods and welded steel ship parts, vibrated on a cheap folding table. Fans in a cube array surrounded a bright light. It whirred like a shop-vac.

Se-Joon, a spindly 37-year-old wearing ultra-dark safety goggles, stared into the metal box. The angelic searing beam inside would've fried his eyeballs if he dared look straight at it. His blue long-sleeved pajamas looked iridescent.

The box whirred, faster and faster, until a concussive BANG. Smoke rose from the box. The light was dead. A few sparks were the only reminder of the grand light. Se-Joon took off his goggles, sat in his chair and dug his head into his hands. Miko, 39, also wearing long-sleeved pajamas, walked into the garage. She held a drink and stumbled into Se-Joon's arms. She laughed. "You'll get it eventually." Words of hollow encouragement that nevertheless made Se-Joon smile. A digital alarm beeped. Midnight.

The dirt roads of Southern Illinois. Se-Joon sped through the rural void. His tungsten headlights caught peripheral glimpses of the white-brick Baptist Church and the run-down gas station. Other than that, dirt occupied his vision. The burned-out metal box sat in the passenger seat. He made a stop in the dirt, kicking up a cloud of debris. He threw the box out the window where it landed in a ditch. This was where the drifters liked to strip for copper. He figured they would find this and eat for weeks.

When Se-Joon got home, Miko was sleeping in their humble futon. The mattress was thin. They liked it that way, seemed to straighten out the spine. Se-Joon took off his socks and slipped into bed.

Crickets. Cicadas. A night breeze.

A thump.

Miko sat up in a daze. She looked out her window. She went back to sleep.

Another thump. Louder this time. It punctured the country air.

Silence again.

Then, suddenly, white light overtook the house, beaming in through the windows. Every crack, every sliver of exposure to the outside let in blinding, uncradled fluorescence.

Se-Joon woke up and immediately covered his eyes. Miko crawled to the safety goggles in the corner of the room. Strapped them tight to her head. She looked outside. Light without an accompanying sound is far too startling.

The initial luminescent blast died down in a few seconds. But it seemed as if all empty air and space had been replaced with this matter stream, as if a glowing lake flowed through the world.