Three Days Later
The world did not calm down.
Across every continent, governments scrambled to contain a truth that had detonated faster than any weapon ever built.
The United Nations Emergency Summit was scheduled for Friday, an unprecedented global meeting called within forty-eight hours of the White House announcement. World leaders from over one hundred countries were expected to attend in person or via secured link. The official agenda was labeled:
“Global Stability Conference.”
Unofficially, it had a simpler name circulating in diplomatic circles:
The Rift Meeting.
Security around cities like Washington, Geneva, Beijing, and London had tripled. Military aircraft patrolled the skies as intelligence agencies warned of rogue Veythari, cult movements, and opportunistic extremist groups attempting to exploit the chaos.
———————————————————
Cities around the world erupted in demonstrations.
In Los Angeles, thousands marched through downtown demanding to know how long the government had hidden the existence of rifts.
In Paris, protestors clashed with riot police outside the Ministry of Defense.
In Tokyo, crowds filled Shibuya Crossing holding signs that read:
“WHO ARE THE VEYTHARI?”
“WHAT ELSE ARE YOU HIDING?”
Some protests were angry.
Others were terrified.
Religious groups gathered in massive prayer circles across South America and Africa, declaring the rifts signs of divine judgment. Meanwhile, fringe cults praised the reveal as the “awakening of humanity.”
In several cities, panic buying had stripped stores bare again. Emergency kits, firearms, generators, and satellite phones sold out in hours.
People weren’t sure what the world was anymore.
And that uncertainty bred fear.
———————————————————
Across the United States, the A.A.A.P. and E.R.O. worked around the clock.
Psychologists, military strategists, and sociologists had been tasked with one mission:
Introduce the supernatural to the public without collapsing society.
Training videos began circulating explaining the difference between Rifts, Monsters, Demurges, Ghouls, and Veythari.
Schools announced temporary closures while federal agencies prepared new curriculum guidelines for “anomalous reality education.”
The Pentagon issued statements confirming the military had limited cooperative programs with Veythari units, though they refused to disclose numbers.
Behind closed doors, the reality was simpler.
No one actually knew how many Veythari existed.
———————————————————
The Church moved quickly.
Within hours of the announcement, high-ranking clergy released statements acknowledging the existence of supernatural forces while urging followers not to panic.
A special council was convened in Rome to determine theological responses to rifts, monsters, and the concept of Manifestation.
Privately, however, Church investigators were already mobilizing.
Because they had encountered these things before.
They just hadn’t told the public either.
———————————————————
Online, the reaction was even more chaotic.
Influencers and celebrities flooded platforms with opinions, theories, and emotional breakdowns.
Some posted prayer videos.
Others posted reaction streams watching footage of the Liddle battle frame by frame.
Conspiracy channels exploded with millions of viewers overnight.
Trending tags rotated hourly:
#Veythari
#RiftsAreReal
#NewWorld
#SecondPulse
#GovernmentLied
Some people begged to become Veythari.
Others demanded they be outlawed entirely.
A few simply watched in stunned silence.
———————————————————
Every major network ran the same looping segments.
Red Hollow Park.
New York.
Liddle.
Three events.
Three reminders that the world people thought they understood no longer existed.
Anchors spoke with forced composure as analysts debated everything from Rift physics to Veythari ethics.
Military experts warned that if individuals could destroy cities in minutes, global warfare had entered an entirely new era.
Economists predicted catastrophic shifts in global markets.
Philosophers called it the greatest existential revelation in human history.
The world was still reeling.
Not because the supernatural existed.
But because the old rules no longer applied.
And somewhere behind the riots, the politics, the panic, and the headlines—
People were already shaping what the new world would look like.
———————————————————
Savannah sighed as the screen went black.
She had heard enough reports. Enough speculation. Enough people talking about things they hadn’t seen.
She had been there.
For all of it.
Like some kind of curse.
She stretched slowly and walked toward the small mirror mounted on the wall of her Echo-9 quarters.
Her reflection stared back.
Her long red hair hung unevenly now, strands burnt and jagged from surviving Xila’s lightning. The Red Beast had nearly fried half of it off during their clash.
Savannah lifted a hand.
Wind gathered softly between her fingers.
Snip.
Strands of hair floated down like feathers as invisible blades trimmed through the damaged sections. She worked carefully, smoothing it out until it fell evenly again, still long enough to rest past her shoulders.
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She lowered her hand.
Better.
Her eyes drifted downward.
Her body was still bruised in places — deep violet marks across her ribs, faint yellowing around her shoulders. Most of the wounds had already softened thanks to her mani healing, but the fight had been brutal.
Xila had been holding back. Mostly…
Savannah leaned a hand against the sink.
Her green eyes looked… tired.
Dark circles rested beneath them now.
Three days of debriefings.
Three days of examinations.
Three days of replaying every moment of those fights.
She wore nothing but an E.R.O. training shirt and grey sweats.
She had decided to stay at Echo-9.
Going home wasn’t an option.
Not after this.
Not after the world had changed.
Her mom would just add onto the stress.
Savannah exhaled slowly.
The last few days had been nothing but interrogation rooms and medical scans. The analysts had needed every detail.
Especially about Xila.
Now they knew.
Her Core Attribute wasn’t just lightning.
It was a Supreme Skill tied to meaning itself.
Her attacks didn’t target the body first.
They targeted the concept behind the action.
That was why Savannah’s defenses kept failing against it.
The lightning was judgment.
Before the battle at Liddle, analysts had placed Xila firmly at A+ rank.
Now?
The updated combat evaluation labeled her something far worse.
Low S-Rank.
Savannah closed her eyes briefly.
And they had paid for that miscalculation.
They have been paying for a lot of miscalculations.
V-27 had lost every one of its B-rank members during the New York disaster.
The A+ rank Butcher had slaughtered them.
Now V-25 has lost Blue Hero.
Maxwell.
Savannah stared at the floor.
He had been annoying.
Too optimistic.
Too eager to help everyone.
But it wasn’t his fault.
His trait made him that way.
He couldn’t help it.
Still tried to protect people.
Her eyes sank lower.
He didn’t deserve to die like that.
And V-23…
V-23 had lost its last two members entirely.
Three units crippled.
Millions injured or dead.
A city and town broken.
And the only thing they had to show for it—
Three dead Devil’s Den members.
Savannah leaned back against the wall.
And Crimline.
The one good piece of leverage they had.
The one person who might actually explain what the Den was doing.
Savannah had personally beaten her to near death.
Now everyone was waiting for her to wake up.
The entire investigation hung on a woman in a hospital bed.
Savannah rubbed her eyes.
Now the world knew.
Everything.
It was only a matter of time before the ghoul populations around the world reacted. Vampires, werewolves, gnomes, all the quiet creatures that had blended into humanity’s background for centuries.
And if Demurges started moving openly—
Savannah stopped the thought.
Her head throbbed.
This was too much.
And honestly… she was tired of spiraling.
She forced herself to breathe and looked down at the desk in her quarters.
A stack of papers.
And one large yellow envelope sitting right in the middle.
She hated paperwork.
She could probably put it off another—
Knock knock.
Savannah blinked.
“Oi? Who is it?”
“Who else, baby girl!”
Savannah groaned immediately.
“Tila. I’m busy.”
“Darling, we are all busy. Come open the door for mama.”
Savannah couldn’t help it. A laugh slipped out as she pushed herself up and walked to the door.
When she opened it, Tila was already leaning against the frame.
Short white hair. Golden-brown eyes that always looked amused.
She wore a tight crop top and oversized black pants that swallowed her feet. Her arms were completely covered in ink — layered tattoos of symbols, names, and old unit insignias stacked on top of one another like a timeline of every battle she’d fought in. Though now they had some cuts and bruises on them as well.
Tila looked Savannah up and down.
“What you doing cooped up in here?”
“I’m busy decompressing.”
Tila’s eyes slid immediately past her.
“What’s that on the table?”
Savannah narrowed her eyes.
“Oi. You’re nosey this morning.”
“It’s the afternoon, baby girl.”
Tila pushed past her like a cat entering a house it already owned.
She walked straight to the desk and leaned down at the paperwork.
“This better not be a will.”
Savannah snorted.
“I don’t own anything to give. If my mom heard I croaked she’d just throw everything away.”
Tila straightened slowly.
“So you do have stuff then?”
“Shut up. Why are you here?”
Tila turned with a wicked grin.
“Because you missed me.”
She lunged.
Savannah barely had time to react before Tila tried to wrap her in a crushing hug.
“Oi—!”
They tumbled sideways, crashing into the floor as Savannah shoved her off.
They wrestled for a few seconds before Savannah rolled away and scrambled backward across the floor.
“Boundaries, demon.”
“Come here, my little strawberry shortcake!”
Savannah burst out laughing as Tila crawled toward her again like some ridiculous predator.
Ten minutes later—
They both ended up sprawled on the floor laughing.
Savannah wiped her eyes and shook her head.
“You’re annoying...”
Tila chuckled beside her.
“Yet here I am. Improving your day.”
Savannah snorted again.
Tila turned her head and looked back toward the desk.
The yellow envelope still sat there.
“So,” she said casually, “I’ll ask again.”
She pointed at the papers.
“What are those for, mama?”
Savannah smiled faintly.
She leaned back against the floor, staring up at the ceiling.
“It’s a request.”
Tila tilted her head, still lying on the floor beside her.
“A request for what?”
Savannah exhaled slowly.
“For me to be an overseer for G-Unit.”
Tila’s brows rose.
“Well,” she said after a beat, “that’s a twist.”
Savannah sat up, resting her arms on her knees.
“With everything going on right now… I can’t focus on the whole world,” she said plainly. “The higher-ups will deal with that. Whatever global circus they’re putting together.”
She shrugged.
“Honestly? Nothing changed about my job.”
Tila hummed thoughtfully.
“That’s one way to look at it.”
Savannah looked over at the yellow envelope.
“I’m asking not to sit on the sidelines,” she added. “And yeah, I know it’s stupid to ask for special favors right now.”
She picked up one of the papers and tapped it against her knee.
“But if they’re planning to put Zoey in G-Unit, then I’m working in G-Unit.”
Tila nodded slowly.
“G-Unit is definitely better than death.”
Savannah gave a dry chuckle.
“The hard part isn’t that.”
“What is it then?”
Savannah’s expression flattened.
“Working with Howard.”
Tila blinked.
“The higher-ups want to use him,” Savannah said. “And they know I have history with him.”
She leaned back slightly, resting her palms on the floor behind her.
“But the brightside is,” she added with a small smile, “if push comes to shove…”
Her eyes hardened.
“I can find a way to kill Howard during a mission.”
Tila didn’t flinch.
Savannah finished quietly.
“And keep Zoey safe.”
There was a brief silence.
Then Tila shrugged.
“That’s dark,” she admitted.
“But not a bad idea.”
Savannah looked over at her.
“I thought you were going to say the plan was dumb,” she said. “Or try to stop me.”
Tila snorted.
“After everything you’ve gone through this past month? And the last few days?”
She shook her head.
“I can’t blame you.”
She leaned her head back against the floor.
“Besides,” she added casually, “we aren’t heroes.”
Savannah glanced at her.
“We’re Veythari combatants.”
Tila’s golden-brown eyes flicked toward the ceiling.
“And Selfish Encasement is the foundation of Manifestation after all.”
Savannah stared at the envelope again.
The world might be collapsing.
But she still had one thing she could control.
Protecting Zoey.
“What’s the plan after that?” Tila asked.
Savannah rubbed her eyes again.
“Getting answers about Red Hollow,” she said. “But with everything happening right now… that’s gonna be difficult.”
Tila hummed softly.
“Hmm. You got a lot going on, baby girl.”
Savannah chuckled under her breath.
“I guess I do.”
Tila suddenly stood up.
Snow swirled faintly around her fingers.
Before Savannah could react, the cold air lifted her clean off the floor.
“Oi?!”
“You like to procrastinate,” Tila said casually.
She floated Savannah over to the chair by the desk and set her down like she was placing a doll.
“So let’s sit.”
Savannah groaned.
Tila planted her hands on the desk and looked down at the papers.
“We’re finishing this. Yeah?”
Savannah leaned back dramatically.
“Then you can take me out to eat.”
“Ugh… but—”
“No buts.”
Tila grabbed the stack of papers and began counting.
“One… two… three…”
Her eyebrows climbed higher with every page.
“…twenty.”
She slowly turned toward Savannah.
“You’ve done two and a half.”
Savannah smiled weakly.
Tila stared at her.
“You have a problem.”
Savannah shrugged.
“Pot meet kettle.”
“This isn’t about me, babe.”
Before Savannah could protest, Tila dropped down and sat directly in her lap.
Savannah’s eyes widened.
“Oi! Get your big ass off me.”
Tila wiggled comfortably.
“No.”
She grabbed a pen and shoved another one into Savannah’s hand.
“Let’s begin.”
Savannah groaned dramatically.
Three hours later—
The last page slid across the desk.
Savannah dropped the pen.
“…done.”
Tila leaned back in the chair opposite of Savannah, stretching her arms overhead with a satisfied sigh.
“See? That wasn’t so bad.”
Savannah stared at the completed stack in disbelief.
“That was… way quicker than I thought it would be.”
Tila grinned.
“Because I forced you.”
Savannah rubbed her eyes.
“Alright.”
She pushed herself up from the chair.
“You win.”
Tila perked up immediately.
“So we’re eating now?”
Savannah sighed.
“Yeah yeah. Let’s go before you start another wrestling match.”
Tila smiled like she had already planned one.
They ate in the Echo-9 cafeteria.
Leaving the base right now wasn’t a good idea.
The entire world had seen fragments of the battle. Phones and cameras were everywhere. The footage wasn’t clear enough to identify faces yet, but the higher-ups had already warned them to keep movement controlled.
So the base cafeteria would do.
It wasn’t glamorous—just rows of metal tables, vending machines, and a serving line that never seemed to close—but it was quiet enough.
Savannah and Tila sat near the far wall, trays half empty, still laughing.
Tila had spent most of the meal helping Savannah rehearse what she was going to say when she submitted her request.
“No, no,” Tila said, pointing a fry at her. “Don’t say it like you’re apologizing.”
“I’m not apologizing.”
“You sound like you are.”
Savannah rolled her eyes.
“I’m asking to be reassigned during a global crisis. It’s going to sound like I’m apologizing.”
“Confidence,” Tila said. “You’re Red Gale. Act like it.”
Savannah snorted but tried again anyway.
They went back and forth like that until their trays were empty.
Eventually, a notification chimed from Tila’s device.
She groaned.
“Another debrief.”
Savannah laughed.
“You love talking.”
“Not to analysts.”
Tila pushed herself up from the table.
“Orders are orders.”
She leaned down briefly and bumped Savannah’s shoulder.
“Don’t chicken out.”
“Wasn’t planning on it.”
Tila smirked and headed toward the exit.
Savannah watched her disappear through the cafeteria doors.
The room suddenly felt quieter.
She stood slowly and grabbed her tray, dropping it off before stepping out into the main corridor.
Echo-9 was busier than usual.
Agents moved quickly through the halls. Technicians wheeled equipment carts past. Screens mounted along the walls displayed rotating news feeds and operation updates.
Red Hollow.
New York.
Liddle.
The same images looping everywhere.
Savannah ignored them.
She walked deeper into the base.
Documents in hand.
Security checkpoints opened automatically as her credentials scanned.
Doors unlocked.
Elevators descended.
Personnel stepped aside when they recognized her.
Eventually she reached a section of the facility most agents rarely entered.
The hallway here was wider and quieter.
The lights were also brighter.
At the end stood a reinforced door marked:
COMMAND OPERATIONS
Savannah slowed.
This was it.
She inhaled once.
Then twice.
The words Tila had drilled into her echoed in her head.
Confidence.
She stepped forward.
And knocked.
