Perses

[ San Francisco - 10:32 AM, 20th of July 2076 ]

"Sir, we're receiving an abnormally high reading on the seismic radars," a tense voice echoed across the bustling headquarters of the United States Geology Surveys organization.

The highest-ranking officer present scanned the room's array of floating screens, his brow furrowing. This day was going to be forever etched in his memory.

"How high is abnormally high?" He turned his attention to the junior officer, who had the anxious look of someone witnessing the inexplicable.

"Third-Grade National Emergency level and rising, sir," the junior officer stammered. In his five years at this post, he'd never encountered readings of this magnitude. A droplet of sweat traced a path down his cheek as a gnawing worry about his loved ones settled in his gut.

"Third grade? Escalating?" The officer's shock mirrored the disquiet that swept through the room. He let out an exasperated sigh, realizing the significance of the situation.

"Sir, we've now reached Fourth-grade levels," another voice chimed in. The gravity of those words turned faces paler, as if each number carried the weight of an impending disaster.

Fourth-grade emergencies are the equivalent of hurricanes, and this one was still increasing in power.

"Contact Commander Houston and the White House immediately," the officer instructed, the weight of his responsibility heavy on his shoulders. How had this threat eluded them until now? He could already sense the impending storm of blame he was about to face.

"NASA is reporting anomalous tremors, sir," a communication recruit added, the urgency in her voice mirroring the mounting chaos.

"Tell them we're investigating the tremors on our end too," the officer replied, his patience wearing thin in the face of unfolding uncertainty.

"Geneva's requesting aid for an impending natural disaster, sir."

"Another earthquake?"

"No, sir, it seems to be the same seismic disturbance as ours."

"How could that be…" The officer's voice trailed off as the ground quivered beneath them, an ominous rumble filling the air.

"Tokyo is also seeking assistance, sir. How should I respond?"

'What is going on?'

Dread settled like a stone in his stomach. "Inform them that we're experiencing the same tremors and assessing the threat."

Another tremor jolted the building, screens flickering and lights dancing like frantic fireflies.

"Sir, we've crossed into Fifth-grade territory."

"Unbelievable." The officer's muttered expletives resonated with his growing panic. Despite his extensive experience, he found himself navigating uncharted waters. This event, of a magnitude not seen for centuries, perhaps ever, had struck during his tenure. The timing felt cruel, just before retirement and the promise of a comfortable pension.

"Have we managed to contact Commander Houston?"

"No, sir."

"The White House?"

A more forceful quake shook the room, overshadowing their conversation.

"They've been alerted and declared a national emergency. Civilians are advised to stay indoors and avoid tall structures," the junior officer intervened, silencing the recruit's imminent question. Anxiety and dissatisfaction flowed through him as he clung to the hope of his family's safety.

The building shuddered once more, a relentless reminder of the encroaching chaos.

"A massive tremor is imminent! Brace for impact!" The resounding shout echoed across the main deck, a frantic crescendo amidst the impending chaos. Trembling surged through the surroundings, forcing people to seek refuge beneath desks or rush toward designated safety zones. The very foundations of the area quaked with violence.

"5…"

Amidst the pandemonium, individuals were scattered, their faces etched with terror.

"4…"

The crash of a falling pipe reverberated through the tumultuous air, punctuating the mounting tension.

"3…"

The building trembled in response, the ground itself seeming to protest the impending calamity.

"2…"

Screens fizzled out in a shower of sparks, casting a surreal and ominous glow upon the scene.

"1…"

Breaths held, hearts raced, and the collective dread hung palpably in the air.

"Impact."

In that fleeting moment, the world held its breath. Just as the memory of the infamous 9/11 remained etched in the minds of those who lived through it, so too would this instant be indelibly carved into the annals of history.

A profound silence enveloped the globe. A hiatus from conflict, a respite from noise, a global communion of thought: what comes next?

Yet, the tranquil interlude was ephemeral, as all good things are.

A colossal shockwave rippled through the planet, a seismic upheaval that shook the world to its very core. Eruptions of fire and smoke painted the skies above bustling cities. The rise of mushroom clouds marked the harrowing demise of failing nuclear power plants. Pandemonium reigned as civilization crumbled. Buildings toppled, homes were obliterated, families torn asunder, and lives extinguished.

The sanctum of the USGS was not spared from this relentless onslaught. The officer, a spectator to this catastrophic symphony, watched in horrified helplessness as his comrades succumbed to electric fury. Beside him, a woman's anguished cries intertwined with the chaos. It was all too much, a cruelty beyond measure. Questions of 'Why?' and 'How?' remained unspoken in the turmoil.

His gaze lifted to the fractured ceiling. A man of unwavering faith, he was now a devotee of doubt, his devotion shaken to its core.

'Why, God? Why?'

In the last fragments of conscious thought, as the ceiling cracked and a looming slab of concrete descended, a warmth, foreign and comforting, enveloped him. A rush of query and contemplation was cut short as the world plunged into darkness.

In silence, the officer's final reflection murmured through his fading awareness:

'Where did it all go wrong?'

Then, with the impact of unyielding reality, darkness claimed him.