Pamphlets.

The city had always been a place of strange happenings, but nothing quite prepared its inhabitants for the Tower. It began as an unassuming spire, a mere blemish on the horizon. But with each passing day, it grew taller, its peak vanishing into the swirling grey clouds, a monument to some unknowable purpose.  

The Tower was more than just a structure; it was an enigma, a silent testament to the mysteries of the universe. Its surface was a patchwork of alien materials, its angles defying the laws of geometry. Its presence cast a pall over the city, a constant reminder of the insignificance of human existence in the face of cosmic grandeur.  

As the Tower grew, so did the unease among the city dwellers. Whispers of strange lights and unsettling sounds emanating from its peak filled the streets. Then, the pamphlets began to fall. They would rain down from the unseen heights, fluttering down like grotesque snowflakes, each one bearing a cryptic message scrawled in an indecipherable language.  

The pamphlets were more than just unsettling curiosities; they were a contagion, spreading a sense of dread and paranoia among the populace. Those who dared to touch them were plagued by nightmares, their minds filled with visions of impossible geometries and cosmic horrors.  

The city became a place of fear and suspicion. The Tower, once an object of curiosity, was now a symbol of impending doom. Its ever-growing height seemed to mock the city’s inhabitants, a constant reminder of their powerlessness against the forces of the unknown.  

As the Tower continued its relentless ascent, the pamphlets became more frequent, their messages more disturbing. The city’s inhabitants began to ——–, their homes left empty, their lives erased as if they had never been. The Tower, it seemed, was not just growing taller; it was consuming the city, its inhabitants, and their sanity.