Darkest Dungeon: The Color of Madness

Some hateful shard of alien origin has streaked through the night
sky, crashing into the old Millers farm on the outskirts of the
Hamlet! Those unfortunate enough to witness the Comets arrival have
been blinded by what they can only describe as a shifting,
ephemeral hue of damnably abrasive intensity. There has been no
word from the farm in a fortnight, save for the unearthly groaning
that echoes from the ruin of the mill When men shake hands with
time, time crushes them like tumblers; little pieces of glass.