Kirill types three commands on his phone.
In under thirty seconds, screen after screen erupts in flames. Explosions bloom like expanding suns, walls collapse inward, ancient structures implode as if the earth itself refuses to hold them anymore.
One by one, the feeds cut out with static.
Sean lunges toward the TV mounted on the wall and switches it to a news channel.
The broadcast is immediate with all the major headlines about simultaneous explosions across multiple continents.
Every channel says the same thing. Each reporter speaks with a mix of terror, bewilderment, and urgent speculation.
No one understands what happened except for the six of us and the O'Connors.
We sit in silence, our eyes glued to the screen, waiting for signs of life or a monster so powerful that they survive and walk out of the rubble.
The smoke only thickens. The news drones on, and nothing moves.
Sean's phone rings. He answers it on speakerphone. "Liam."
"Assuming that was you?"
"Yep."
"Is it over?" Liam questions.
"It's over enough," Sean replies.
A moment of silence fills the line then Liam says, "I want a full report tomorrow."
Sean glances at Brax and states, "We'll see you at ten." He hangs up.
Brax sits and pulls me closer, his expression a mix of vicious triumph and sarcasm. He murmurs, "Told you, Minx. No one's turning you into their baby factory."
A laugh bursts out of me, full of nerves and relief. It's not funny. They could have accomplished everything they wanted had he not cracked into the files. Yet all I can do is laugh. Then my eyes water and my lips shake.
"Hey. It's alright. No one is coming near you," Brax assures, tugging me into his chest.
My emotions win, and I sob against his shirt, unable to stop the onslaught of tears.
Zara's voice turns raw. "Is it really over?"
I take a deep breath and turn toward the others.
The question lingers in the middle of the room like a ghost, with everyone staring at Kirill.
He steps forward, points at the computer, and orders sharply, "Brax. Turn on the chatter."
Brax immediately types on the keyboard. Lines of encrypted text flood the screen as the membership's private channels ignite.
Thousands of messages pop up on the screen.
What just happened?
Who attacked us?
Are we at war?
The membership panics with the instant confusion we anticipated.
