Chapter 1 The Coming Storm

Ch 1. The Coming Storm

Location: City Square, The Capital of Aquino Republic

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Flashes of light split the darkening sky sounds of rumbling all around. The bodyguards instinctively reach out towards the Chancellor with the two HARP Units that were flanking Delun going into high alert scanning for threats amongst the surroundings.

 This wasn't part of the plan.

For a brief moment, there was silence—a stunned, suspended pause. Then came the screams, panic rippling through the crowd as they pushed and shoved to get away from the perceived danger. People rushed blindly, the storm swallowing them in chaos.

Delun didn't flinch. His eyes darted to the building, the source of the explosion. It took only a moment to understand what had happened—a lightning strike, direct and devastating. My god did the Americans really make it, It was supposed to be a pipedream a superweapon that can control the weather

He stepped back from the podium, rain soaking through his clothes, but his expression remained steady, controlled. Around him, his security detail sprang into action, moving to shield him, to lead him away from the danger.

"Sir, we need to move—now," one of the guards urged, pulling at his arm.

Delun shook his head slightly, his voice low but firm. "No. Not yet."

He scanned the scene—the chaos, the fear, the crowd scattering in every direction. They needed more than protection; they needed to know they weren't under attack, that they weren't in danger. If he left now, panic would consume them.

Control the narrative, he thought, his mind sharp despite the confusion.

Without hesitation, he raised a hand, his voice cutting through the storm and panic. "Stay calm! Stay where you are! It's the storm, not an attack!"

His words fought against the wind, the rain, and the rising hysteria. Some people heard him, slowed, and stopped, looking back to him as though searching for an anchor. Others continued to flee, driven by fear that had taken root before reason could.

" Everyone! "

 Delun yells into the storm. 

" Head to the nearest emergency shelter on the block, it seems the storm has gotten worse no need to worry. If you can grab your fellow citizens and guide them to the right direction. Thank you for coming stay indoors and remember,"

Delun looks towards the crowd undaunted by the weather

"Happy Reformation Day! "

Delun walks of the stage with bodyguards close and the HARP units falling behind, the roar of the crowd muffling behind him as the rain beat down harder on the city. His security detail closed in around him, their presence tightening like a shield as they moved swiftly into the corridor. Water dripped from their uniforms and suits, but Delun barely noticed. His mind was racing.

He spun his head looking towards the entourageforming behind him, his voice sharp. "What the hell happened out there? I want answers now. "

"We're still figuring it out, sir," the officer replied, keeping pace as they moved. "But initial analysis suggests something bigger than just a storm."

Delun's jaw tightened. "Bigger how?"

The officer exchanged a glance with one of the aides, hesitating before speaking again. "There's a theory, sir. Rumors... about a weapon. American. Something we thought didn't exist. They're saying it might've been responsible for the storm."

Delun stopped dead in his tracks, turning to face him. His eyes narrowed, the weight of those words sinking in. "A weapon?"

"Yes, sir. But it shouldn't—"

"Shouldn't exist," Delun cut him off, his voice low. "Yet here we are."

They continued down the hall, Delun's thoughts racing. A weapon powerful enough to control the weather? Natural Disasters at a fingertip It was a nightmare scenario, something whispered about in briefings, but never confirmed. Until now, apparently.

They reached the control room, screens buzzing with static and blackouts. The storm raged outside, but inside, the tension was palpable. Delun's eyes scanned the chaos—officers scrambling, technicians hammering on keyboards, nothing working.

"Status," Delun demanded.

A communications officer looked up, pale-faced. "Sir, we've lost contact with Command. No signal. Internet's down too. We're completely cut off."

For a moment, Delun stood still, letting the enormity of the situation settle in. He glanced at the blank monitors, then at the storm pounding relentlessly outside. If this is a preemptive strike, they've already crippled us.

He took a deep breath, then spoke, his voice calm but commanding. "We're heading to the communication building. we're going to need a to use the direct line, regain communications from there."

One of his aides stepped forward. "Sir, with the storm—"

"With or without the storm," Delun interrupted, his tone final. "We're going."

Without wasting another second, Delun turned, already moving toward the exit. His security team flanked him, ready for whatever awaited them outside.

As they stepped into the downpour, Delun's mind was already working on the next steps. If this is a strike, it's only the beginning. And we're running out of time.