Chapter 2 Eye of The Storm

Ch 2. Eye of The Storm

Location: City Square, The Old Capital

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As the group walk out into the storm The sound of the sirens pierced through the thick, stormy air—long, undulating wails that reverberated through every street, bouncing off the walls of the towering buildings like a warning from the gods. 

He remained silent, weighing the possibilities. The city lay sprawled out before him, its streets drowning in rain and its people scrambling for shelter. The sirens howled above it all, mechanical ghosts calling out in warning. His eyes scanned the horizon, looking for something, anything that would give him clarity. But there was nothing. Only rain, noise, and confusion.

Ahead, the presidential motorcade idled in the rain, engines humming softly. Delun's eyes locked on Captain Malaya Taufan, already waiting at the head of his unit.

Taufan, a man from the Pacific Islands with a commanding presence, nodded as Delun approached. He wasn't the type for small talk, and neither was Delun.

"Chancellor," Taufan greeted, his visor retracted, rain tracing lines down his face.

"Captain," Delun replied with a short nod. His eyes scanned the convoy. "What's our status?"

"Vehicles are prepped. We estimate twenty minutes to the communications hub, assuming no further complications." Taufan's voice was steady, always efficient in moments like this.

Taufan motioned toward the armored vehicle. Delun stepped inside without hesitation, the familiar weight of the situation settling over him. The door shut behind him with a heavy thud, sealing him in from the outside chaos. Taufan took his place across from him, his expression unreadable but alert.

The convoy started moving, slicing through the flooded streets as rain pounded against the windows. Outside, Delun could see the National Guard moving swiftly—directing civilians, securing key points in the city, making sure order held amidst the growing storm.

They reached the inner courtyard, where the presidential motorcade waited. Here, another layer of protection had been added—the heavily armed unit, presidential security in exosuits, their combat rifles gleaming under the floodlights. They were an imposing force, the kind of presence that could push back any threat, foreign or domestic.

One of the soldiers stepped forward, his exosuit hissing as it adjusted to his movement. "Chancellor, the area is secure. We're ready to move."

Delun gave a curt nod, glancing at the men. Their gear was top-of-the-line, designed for situations far worse than this. "Good to see you're all still in one piece. What's the estimated time to the communications building?"

"We're looking at twenty minutes, sir. But given the storm, we'll need to take the secured route. Expect detours."

Twenty minutes. If we're lucky, Delun thought. He looked back at the rain-slicked streets, the flash of blue lights as the National Guard deployed, guiding civilians into shelters, manning barricades. Everything was moving, pieces shifting in real-time, and he had to stay ahead of it. He nodded again, letting his men know it was time.

The motorcade began to move, tires cutting through the flooded streets with deliberate precision. From his window, Delun watched the city pass by—National Guard soldiers, soaked through but resolute, moving civilians toward shelters, establishing makeshift checkpoints at key intersections. Some of the people they were guiding looked dazed, others frantic, their eyes wide with fear as they hurried to safety.

Good men, doing their jobs, Delun thought. He made a mental note to commend them when this was over. Assuming it would be over soon.

He reached into the side panel of the vehicle, pulling out the satellite phone meant for emergencies. The glowing screen was a small comfort in the dim cabin. He dialed the emergency command line, but the call didn't connect. Frowning, he checked the settings, tried again. Still nothing.

The silence from the phone felt heavier than it should.

"Problem, sir?" an aide asked, watching him from the other seat.

Delun shook his head slightly, though it wasn't an answer. "The satellite phone isn't working," he said, his voice controlled. "It should be, even with this weather."

The aide raised an eyebrow, but didn't comment further. Delun could sense his unease—it was the kind of failure that shouldn't be happening. A minor thing, in the grand scheme, but under these circumstances, nothing was truly minor. The systems that were meant to hold everything together were starting to crack, piece by piece.

As they continued, Delun's gaze remained fixed on the passing streets. More soldiers, more barricades, more chaos. But something was shifting in the atmosphere, an undercurrent of unease that wasn't coming from the storm or the soldiers. It was something deeper, something unseen.

Then, without warning, every phone in the vehicle lit up simultaneously. A harsh, shrill alarm pierced the air—a sound even more unsettling than the sirens. Delun's phone buzzed to life, flashing an emergency alert across the screen:

Earthquake Warning. Imminent 10.0 magnitude earthquake detected. Seek shelter immediately.

The words hung there, frozen on the screen. For a moment, the only sound in the vehicle was the relentless rain against the windows, the rhythmic beat of their tires on wet asphalt. Delun's eyes narrowed.

"A ten-point-zero?" Reyes murmured, disbelief coloring his voice. "That... that can't be right."

"Sir, that's catastrophic. But..."

"But it doesn't make sense," Delun finished for him. His instincts told him this was another false lead, a layer of deception on top of whatever was really happening. "Let's stay the course. Until I see rubble falling, we move forward."

Delun's mind moved quickly. A quake that size would devastate everything, tear the city apart. But something about the warning felt wrong. Too sudden. Too coincidental. His instincts, honed by years of crisis management, told him this was a mistake, or worse—disinformation. He glanced at his phone again, considering the implications.

Before he could speak, the sirens outside changed. Their tone shifted, the sound no longer the sharp, urgent wail it had been moments before. Instead, they began to harmonize—an eerie, almost musical quality to them, as if every siren in the city had been tuned to the same haunting frequency.

The sound grew louder, swelling into a single, overwhelming note. Delun felt it in his chest, the deep, resonant hum vibrating through the metal of the vehicle. It was unnatural, a crescendo that had no place in the chaos outside.

And then, as quickly as it had begun, the sound stopped.

Silence.

Everything stopped. The sirens, the phones, the noise of the rain outside. It was as though the world had been put on mute. Not just the absence of noise, but a silence so thick it felt as though the world itself had paused, holding its breath. The storm continued outside, but even the rain seemed muted, distant. Delun's eyes flicked to Reyes, who sat unnervingly still, his hand resting on his sidearm.

Through the rain-streaked windows, Delun saw it. A fog was rolling in, creeping across the city like a slow tide, swallowing the streets whole. It was dense, unnatural, and it seemed to move with intent, as if it were alive.

Taufan's hand shifted toward his rifle, a subconscious movement as the fog closed in around them.

"Stay focused," Delun said quietly, more for himself than anyone else.

The city was disappearing into the mist, and with it, the illusion of control.