Lightning tore through Xavier's skull.

  Not in pain, but something deeper, more fundamental. His father's mana raced through his consciousness like wildfire, carrying a single desperate message that burned itself into his mind: NOW!

  It was their father’s discussed warning; eighteen months too early.

  Xavier jerked upright in bed, every nerve ending alive with Alexander's urgent warning. Beside him, Rose stirred, her dark hair spilling across the pillow as she blinked awake.

  "EVERYONE UP!" he shouted, throwing off his covers and hitting the floor running. "IT'S TIME! DAD'S SIGNAL; THE FALL IS STARTING NOW!"

  He turned back to Rose as he grabbed clothes from the chair. "Get dressed, we need to get moving!"

  "Wait, now?" Rose's eyes went wide. "But its too soon, almost a year and a half."

  "I know!" Xavier cut her off. "Get dressed, we work with what we have!"

  Her shock lasted only a heartbeat before training took over. "Go! I'm getting dressed, I'll catch up!"

  He paused for just a moment, meeting her eyes. They'd prepared as much as they could. However eighteen months early? Nothing was fully ready. But ready or not, it was happening.

  "Command center," he said, and she nodded.

  "I'll be right behind you."

  Down the hall, he could hear other doors slamming open as he burst into the corridor. The other empowered survivors: those who had received Alexander's power and remembered the original timeline, were all feeling it too. Beverly, Richard, Morgan, Tyrus, Michael, Damion, William, Melissa, Jackson, Victor. All of them scrambling, all of them knowing they weren't fully ready.

  "Nadia!" Xavier called to his sister, who was already running toward the command center, her face pale. "Get to the main console; activate whatever shelter networks are online! Full power to any SP deployment systems that are operational!"

  "But we're not…" she started.

  "I KNOW!" he shouted back. "Do what you can!"

  Aurora grabbed his arm as they ran down the corridor, her grip tight with barely controlled panic. "What about the governments? We haven't finished the briefings; half of them don't even have the full dossiers yet!"

  "Sophie's people will have to work with what they have," he replied, pushing through the doors. "The major world leaders have the classified dossiers with Alexander's identity and basic protocols. It'll have to be enough. The moment his broadcast goes live, they'll either cooperate or they won't."

  The command center erupted into barely controlled chaos as the empowered survivors poured in. The massive room, once a subterranean storage facility, now struggled to life as their nerve center. Holographic displays sputtered to life along some walls, while others remained dark. The servers whined with strain as they were forced online ahead of schedule, and the air filled with frantic clicking of keyboards and urgent beeps from systems that weren't quite ready.

  Xavier moved to the central console, his fingers flying across the interface as warning messages scrolled past. Around him, team members scrambled to their stations, calling out status reports that ranged from operational to critically incomplete.

  "Network status!" he barked, dreading the answer.

  "Shelters one through thirty-two responding," Nadia called out, her voice tight with stress. "Thirty-three through fifty are offline; we haven't finished the installations. Trying to bring up what we have. Global communication array is... partially active. We're receiving confirmation signals from North America, Europe, and parts of Asia. South America and Africa are spotty at best."

  Beverly appeared at Xavier's shoulder, her tablet displaying real-time data feeds interspersed with red error warnings. "Purple Thread servers are handling the load, but we're at 60% capacity. Some of the game servers aren't finished masking our network traffic. If someone's looking hard enough, they might see through it."

  "Nothing we can do about that now," Xavier said grimly.

  On the main screen, a map of the world materialized, purple dots appearing across the continents, but with obvious gaps. Whole regions remained dark: shelters that should have been online but weren't, resource caches that hadn't been positioned yet. The scope of what Alexander had managed to build in the limited time was impressive, but the holes in coverage were terrifying.

  "Jesus," someone whispered. "We're not ready. There are so many gaps..."

  "We work with what we have," Xavier said sharply, though his stomach churned. "It's better than nothing."

  "Sophie's network is... responding," Aurora announced from her station, uncertainty in her voice. "The Merchant Guild is moving to their positions, but we're missing confirmation from at least a third of the regional coordinators. Government liaisons are standing by, but most of them are confused as hell. They weren't expecting this yet."

  Rose burst through the doors, still tucking in her shirt, and immediately moved to the communications array. "Media blackout protocols?"

  Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

  "Mostly ready," Tyrus replied from his station, his military bearing barely masking his concern. "We can cut most civilian news feeds when things go sideways, but there are gaps in our coverage. Some stations will stay live. Emergency broadcast system is prepped, but it's going to be messy."

  Xavier took a shaky breath, looking around at the assembled team. His family. His friends. The people who had believed in something impossible and were now facing it eighteen months too soon.

  "Dad's about to tell the world that monsters are real," he said, his voice tight. "That everything they know is about to change. And we're not ready. Not fully. But we're going to have to be."

  "We'll make it work," Nadia said, though her hands trembled slightly over her keyboard. "Operational shelters have supplies for three months minimum. Medical stations that are online are staffed. Security teams are in position where we have them. The SP distribution network can deploy to covered areas the moment the first portal opens."

  "Covered areas," Xavier repeated hollowly. That was the problem, wasn't it? Not everywhere was covered. Not everyone would have access to what they'd built.

  "Broadcast control?" Xavier asked.

  "Standing by," Rose confirmed. "We're piggybacking on most major networks. Coverage isn't perfect, we're missing some regional stations; but when Alexander speaks, most of the world will hear it." She pulled up another screen. "Plus, we have direct access to every player currently logged into The Fall. That's over eight million people online right now across the globe. They'll get the message first, before anyone else."

  "Good," Xavier said grimly. "At least the beta testers will have a head start on understanding what's happening."

  Michael called out from the security station. "Perimeter defenses are armed and functional. If anything comes through near The Nest, we'll detect it. But Xavier..." He paused. "If multiple breaches happen simultaneously, we don't have enough people to cover everything."

  "I know." Xavier's jaw clenched. "We prioritize The Nest and the nearest population centers. That's all we can do."

  Xavier pulled up the countdown timer with shaking hands. Sixty minutes until Alexander's broadcast. Sixty minutes until their father stood before the world and revealed the impossible truth, eighteen months before they'd planned for it.

  The command center buzzed with frantic energy. There was no calm focus now, only desperate preparation. Conversations were terse, urgent. Everyone ran final diagnostics on incomplete systems, patched together workarounds for equipment that wasn't ready, and tried to fill the gaps in their coverage with whatever they had available.

  Xavier found himself staring at a photo on his screen; a family picture from before, when they'd been planning for years more of preparation time. When they'd thought they had until late 2027 to finish everything.

  "You okay?" Aurora asked, appearing beside him, her own face tight with stress.

  "No." He gestured at the screens, at the flashing red warnings, at the incomplete coverage map. "We're not ready, Ma. We needed another year and a half. Minimum. There are entire regions with no coverage, shelters that aren't built, people we can't reach."

  "We work with what we have," she said, echoing his earlier words back to him. However her voice cracked slightly. "Dad wouldn't have sent the signal if he didn't think we could handle it. He knows what we've built. He knows the gaps. He sent it anyway."

  "Or something forced his hand," Xavier said quietly. "Something went wrong. Or maybe something changed."

  Aurora's hand found his, squeezing tight. "Then we adapt. That's what we do. That's what Dad taught us."

  An alert chimed across all stations simultaneously, cutting through their conversation.

  "Mana spike detected," Nadia called out, her voice cracking. "It's starting. Background mana levels are rising globally. Rate of increase is... faster than Dad's projections. Much faster."

  Xavier felt ice flooding his veins. "How much faster?"

  "Thirty percent above projected rate." Nadia's fingers flew across her screens. "If this continues, we're looking at full dimensional breach in under an hour instead of the gradual buildup we expected."

  "Shit." Xavier straightened, forcing himself into command mode. "All stations, final check. Sound off with what you have operational."

  One by one, the team confirmed their partial readiness. Shelters online, but only two-thirds of them. Communication arrays are active, but with significant coverage gaps. Government liaisons are standing by, but many are unprepared and confused. Emergency protocols are armed, but incomplete. Everything they'd built was functional, but nowhere near finished.

  On the main screen, the mana levels continued to climb at that terrifying accelerated rate, invisible energy flooding into Earth from whatever cosmic breach had opened early. In cities around the world, people would be starting to feel it; the pressure in the air, the way light seemed to bend strangely, the sensation that reality itself was tearing at the seams.

  "Fifty-five minutes," Rose announced, her voice strained. "If the acceleration continues..."

  "We make it work," Xavier said, louder than necessary. "We make it work with what we have."

  "We've got you, Dad," Xavier whispered to the blank screen. "It's not perfect, but we've got you."

  Around him, the command center hummed with desperate purpose. Screens displayed incomplete data from across the globe, survivors manned stations while trying to patch holes in their coverage, and somewhere out there, his father was preparing to shoulder the burden of warning humanity about the nightmare that was coming eighteen months ahead of schedule.

  The mana pulsed through Xavier's consciousness one more time, carrying a wordless message that felt like both apology and trust. Alexander knew they weren't ready. He knew the coverage had gaps. But ready or not, The Fall was here.

  "Operational shelters are at full capacity and standing by," Nadia reported, her voice steadier now. "All coverage areas are as ready as we can make them."

  Xavier took a deep breath and opened the compound-wide communication channel. His voice would reach every corner of The Nest, every resident who'd trusted his father's vision.

  "Attention all Nest personnel. This is Xavier Evans." He paused, letting the weight of his words sink in. "I've received a sign from my father. The Fall will be upon us soon. Much sooner than we anticipated." Another pause. "Cancel all outside activities immediately. Report to your assigned emergency locations. This is not a drill. I repeat, this is not a drill."

  He could hear the alarm klaxons beginning to sound through the speakers, echoing through the compound's corridors.

  "Remember the mana purchases Dad arranged. Be prepared for their arrival the moment The Fall begins. Follow your training. Trust your assignments. We've prepared for this." His voice hardened with determination. "Now we execute. Evans out."

  The channel clicked off, and Xavier turned back to his team. Through the command center's windows, he could see The Nest coming alive with purposeful movement. People streaming toward their designated positions, emergency teams gearing up, families moving to the residential shelters.

  "Then we save who we can," Xavier said quietly, the weight of those words crushing. Not everyone. Not the world. Just who they could reach with what they'd managed to build.

  The countdown continued its inexorable march toward zero, and in the command center beneath Alabama soil, the defenders of humanity waited for the first shot of the war to be fired.

  They weren't ready.

  But they would fight anyway.