Ejecta

"Most of it will burn up in the atmosphere," Elara lied gently. She knew that the lunar ejecta —silicate particles as sharp as glass—was already beginning to clog the upper atmosphere, turning the sunset a bruised, sickly violet.

When the asteroid struck the far side of the moon, the world didn't end with a bang, but with a rain of . Scientists called it "impact debris," but to Elara, standing on her porch in the cooling dusk, it looked like the stars were finally coming home to roost. Ejecta

The sky didn't fall all at once; it came in pieces of burning gold. "Most of it will burn up in the

Days passed, and the world grew quiet. The "Ejecta Cloud" began to settle, coating the streets in a fine, silver-grey powder. It wasn't just dust; it was the moon itself, redistributed. Elara spent her afternoons in her lab, analyzing samples. Under the microscope, the lunar grains looked like tiny, jagged diamonds. They were alien, yet they were now part of the Earth's new crust. Scientists called it "impact debris," but to Elara,