260 Two Years
260 Two Years
[POV: Guesswork]
When the asteroid first appeared on the global radar networks, the world thought there had been a mistake.
An extinction-level object did not simply appear overnight without anyone noticing. Governments demanded verification. Observatories double-checked their instruments. Scientists argued on live broadcasts, insisting the math had to be wrong.
Then the second meteor appeared.
The moment its trajectory was confirmed to be within orbital distance, denial collapsed like a rotten building.
Despair followed quickly after.
Humanity had always been very dramatic about the end of the world.
But that was exactly what heroes were for.
In every crisis, people waited for someone to rise above the chaos. Someone who could become a bright star against the darkness, the figure that would carry the weight of hope.
Griffin had become that hero.
The footage played everywhere.
She intercepted the first asteroid to change its trajectory in part of a plan devised by the SRC. Seeing the second asteroid, she also intercepted it with the intent to completely divert its path before it entered the atmosphere, colliding with it in a spectacular burst of force that cameras barely managed to track. For a moment, people believed the crisis might actually be resolved.
Then the asteroid opened.
The rock twisted apart and revealed a creature beneath its shell.
A monster.
It was not a villain.
Villains possessed style, motive, and gravitas. Villains delivered speeches. Villains had personalities large enough to fill the stage.
A monster simply destroyed things.
The creature was quickly given a name by analysts and commentators desperate to label the horror unfolding on screen.
Fenrir.
Thus began the broadcast battle between Griffin and the monster in the silent wasteland of the moon.
They clawed at each other like ancient titans.
Griffin tore flesh from the creature’s body with burning talons. Fenrir answered with jaws and tendrils that shredded her wings and ripped open her flesh. Every exchange painted the lunar surface with more blood.
Across the world, people watched with held breath.
Hope returned slowly.
Because even if the world was ending, at least someone was fighting for it.
Unfortunately, hope had a short shelf life.
While Griffin battled the monster, the first meteor continued its descent.
A fourteen-kilometer object falling straight toward Earth.
On the other side of the crisis stood the villain.
Eclipse.
Even when rumors spread that he intended to save the planet, the public reaction had been… skeptical.
People believed many things about Eclipse.
Heroism was not one of them.
Most assumed he would disappear at the final moment, slipping through one of the rumored portals that connected to other worlds. It would be entirely in character for him to abandon a doomed planet.
Evacuation efforts continued across the globe.
Meanwhile, the world’s attention split between two impossible spectacles.
On one side, Griffin fought a nightmare on the moon.
On the other, the Devil’s Triangle revealed itself to the public for the first time in recorded history.
The ocean in that region had vanished long ago, exposing a vast abyss that descended into the planet’s depths. Emergency forces gathered there, coordinating the final phase of the meteor interception.
Then a third element entered the scene.
A swarm of hooded zealots appeared from stolen portal technology.
Cultists.
They attacked the personnel stationed at the site without hesitation, cutting down technicians, soldiers, and capes alike. The broadcasts showed flashes of chaotic combat as defenders tried to hold the line. For several minutes, the situation devolved into pure disorder. Then the meteor entered its final descent. The cameras focused on the falling mountain of rock as it tore through the atmosphere.
At that exact moment, something burst out of the abyss beneath the Devil’s Triangle.
It looked like a shooting star erupting from the pits of hell. It was Eclipse, flying at the meteor directly. The collision produced a flash that blinded every camera feed for several seconds. When the footage returned, something impossible had occurred.
The entire meteor simply phased through the planet’s surface, swallowed by the Earth itself.
At nearly the same moment, Griffin’s battle reached its conclusion.
The creature Fenrir died screaming beneath her claws.
Griffin tore its body apart and painted one half of the moon red with her blood. The crimson stain remained visible for several minutes before the camera drones lost visual clarity. Then the next footage arrived. Griffin’s enormous body falling toward Earth.
She disintegrated during atmospheric entry.
Her body broke apart into thousands of droplets of blood that ignited under the friction of descent. The droplets burned across the night sky, spreading into a vast celestial phenomenon.
A crimson aurora.
People would later call it the Blood Sky.
Griffin was never seen again.
Eclipse vanished as well.
The catastrophic chain reactions scientists predicted after the meteor’s phase displacement never occurred. No global earthquakes. No extinction-level tsunamis. No volcanic apocalypse.
The planet simply… continued existing.
The world fell into a strange lull as humanity slowly processed what had happened.
Researchers combed the Devil’s Triangle for traces of Eclipse. Lunar expeditions searched the moon for any remnants of Griffin. Analysts dissected every second of the recorded footage.
Two years later, they were still looking for answers.
I leaned back in my chair while watching the television mounted on my office wall.
A reporter spoke urgently into the camera.
“The anniversary of Red-Black Day has triggered massive protests across multiple City-States. Demonstrators are honoring the fallen capes Griffin and Eclipse while demanding greater transparency from global governments regarding the events surrounding the meteor crisis.”
The broadcast cut to footage of riots. Crowds marched through city streets carrying banners painted with red and black symbols. Some people lit candles. Others burned government buildings.
The reporter continued nervously.
“Many protesters claim the world’s governments concealed critical information before the catastrophe. Several leaked documents suggest connections between national administrations and the shadow organization known as the SRC.”
I sighed and changed the channel.
The next station had already picked up the story.
Another reporter spoke rapidly while standing outside a government building surrounded by police barricades.
“New evidence continues to surface regarding systemic corruption tied to the SRC. Documents indicate decades of covert influence over global politics, economics, and the regulation of powered individuals.”
Footage appeared showing classified files projected on a large screen.
“The leaked materials describe a deliberate strategy to maintain tension between mundane populations and individuals with powers. Analysts suggest this manufactured conflict may have been designed to stimulate the emergence of more capes worldwide.”
The reporter swallowed before continuing.
“Public outrage has intensified as citizens demand democratic oversight. Protesters argue that governments must be accountable to the people rather than to hidden authorities operating behind the scenes.”
I leaned back in my chair and laughed quietly.
“See that?”
I pointed at the television.
“I did that.”
The files flashing across the screen had once been buried deep inside the SRC’s archives. Of course, not the fancy one in headquarters, but still pretty a lot for a mundane individual to see. Now the entire world could see them, it was in there hands what to do with the SRC.
“Exposed every bit of dirt the SRC had been hiding in their closet. How fun is that?”
Two bloodied men in expensive suits knelt across from me, their shoulders trembling from exhaustion yet their eyes still burned with stubborn defiance. It might have been intimidating under different circumstances. In another room, with their authority intact, the glare of two SRC executives could freeze entire governments into compliance.
Unfortunately for them, intimidation lost most of its power when the person attempting it was kneeling on the floor with a broken jaw and hands bound behind his back.
Sphere spat a mouthful of blood onto the polished concrete. Even then, his voice carried that same aristocratic arrogance the SRC cultivated in its upper ranks.
“Do you think the higher ups would let this happen?”
Pyramid glared beside him, one eye already swelling shut.
“I know something’s wrong with you,” he hissed. “No one rises through the SRC ladder that fast. Eclipse must’ve played a role in your promotion—”
His sentence ended abruptly when one of the Triplets stepped forward and punched him square in the face.
The Triplet wore a white camouflage military jacket and a smooth bonnet mask that erased any trace of personality. The strike was precise and efficient, the kind delivered by someone who had practiced violence until it became muscle memory.
Pyramid slumped sideways, groaning.
I sighed.
“Yes,” I said calmly. “The higher ups would absolutely let this happen.”
I leaned forward slightly.
“Because they are always watching me. Why do you think this is happening in the first place?”
Their expressions shifted, confusion mixing with rage.
“And Pyramid,” I continued, tapping the armrest of my chair, “you’re correct. Eclipse played a role in my quick promotion. More than you could ever imagine.”
The two men stared at me as if trying to see something beneath the surface.
“You see,” I went on, “both of you are just cogs in a machine that only understands the role you were designed to play. There has always been a bigger picture. Since you ignored the warnings and tried to cling to your positions and assets, this little intervention became necessary.”
Behind me, the television continued running.
A news anchor spoke urgently while graphics scrolled across the screen.
“—further confirmation has emerged regarding the leaked files connected to the SRC. Investigators claim the organization maintained secret influence over multiple world governments for decades, manipulating political decisions, economic systems, and international conflicts.”
The anchor’s voice tightened.
“Among the most disturbing revelations are documents suggesting certain SRC officials exploited powered individuals through illegal experimentation and trafficking networks.”
The broadcast cut to archived photos and redacted documents.
“Public reaction has been explosive. Massive protests have erupted across major population centers, with demonstrators demanding the dismantling of any institutions connected to the SRC’s shadow governance. Not to mention t-the practice of eating c-children.”
I scoffed quietly.
“Really?” I said, glancing back at Sphere. “Eating children? That’s you, right?”
Sphere stiffened.
“That’s the most evil superpower I could imagine,” I continued mockingly. “You gain life force by consuming them. Wow. Terrifying. Truly.”
His jaw clenched, but he said nothing.
I turned my gaze toward Pyramid.
“And you. Smuggling people across worlds?” I shook my head. “Sending them from this planet to others and vice versa. Human trafficking on an interdimensional scale.”
I leaned back.
“Chad would be fascinated to learn about your involvement in his father’s little incident. I can only imagine what he’d do to you.”
I grabbed the remote and changed the channel.
The screen shifted to a documentary program.
A calm narrator spoke over aerial footage of the Devil’s Triangle.
“For centuries, the region now known as the Devil’s Triangle has inspired endless speculation. Ships vanished without explanation. Aircraft disappeared from radar. Entire fleets were lost without distress signals.”
The footage transitioned to modern scans of the massive exposed trench.
“Two years ago, the world witnessed the most extraordinary event in recorded history. The villain Eclipse and the hero Griffin vanished during the same global catastrophe. The Devil’s Triangle became ground zero for what many now call the Red-Black Incident.”
The narrator paused briefly.
“Yet questions remain unanswered. Why had the SRC concealed the region’s anomalies for so long? Was the so-called Entity truly real, or was it merely a fabricated justification for secret experiments conducted by the organization?”
Images of research vessels and satellite scans appeared on screen.
“Despite the SRC’s claims that the world eater known as Entity-AE1 exists somewhere beyond our universe, the being has not appeared in the two years since the meteor crisis.”
I laughed and lowered the remote.
“With this,” I said cheerfully, “the SRC is finished.”
I gestured lazily at the television.
“Well, at least they won’t be touching this world again with their grubby hands.”
A portal opened behind me with a faint ripple in the air. Gloryhole stepped through first, perfectly composed as usual. Patchwork followed close behind her.
Patchwork’s hands were soaked in fresh blood.
“It’s done,” he reported flatly. “I’ve disposed of their subordinates.”
Sphere’s composure finally cracked.
“H-How?” he stammered. “They were the strongest capes money and prestige could buy—”
I scoffed.
“That just proves how ignorant you are.”
I folded my arms.
“Having money and prestige doesn’t mean you actually possess power. The two of you only managed to do whatever you pleased because the higher ups preferred a hands-off approach.”
I waved toward Patchwork.
“Bring Pyramid to Tempest. Do it discreetly.”
Patchwork nodded once and grabbed Pyramid by the collar.
“And Sphere,” I added, glancing down at the kneeling executive, “take him to the SRC headquarters. Tell the lab coats to dissect him.”
Sphere’s eyes widened.
“There should be a way to make his power useful,” I said thoughtfully. “If eating children grants life force, then perhaps we can redirect that ability toward something productive.”
I tilted my head slightly.
“Donate the life force to cancer patients or something.”
Sphere collapsed forward the moment Patchwork seized his collar. Whatever arrogance had been keeping him upright finally shattered under the weight of reality.
“Wait!” he cried, voice cracking. “Please… please, Guesswork, you don’t have to do this!”
Pyramid followed immediately, panic bleeding through every word.
“We can negotiate!” he pleaded. “We have access codes, offshore assets, dimensional accounts. Anything you want! Just don’t hand us over! I know you can do it! Hands off approach, remember? The higher ups won’t mind! Just spare us!”
Sphere nodded frantically beside him.
“I’ll cooperate! I’ll testify against the others! I’ll expose everything the others are hiding! I got dirt on other departments outside this world. Just… just spare my life!”
I leaned back in my chair, listening the same way one might listen to a radio advertisement. In other words, polite disinterest.
Their shoes scraped across the floor as Patchwork dragged them toward the portal.
“Please!” Sphere shouted again. “Guesswork, we served the same organization!”
Pyramid’s voice broke completely.
“I don’t want to die! Please—!”
The portal swallowed their screams.
Gloryhole cleared her throat gently beside me.
“Boss,” she said, perfectly composed, “there’s something you need to see.”
I nodded lazily.
“Handle the Triplets’ payment. One of them is on the ceiling. The other’s outside guarding the door.”
The man in the white camouflage jacket froze for a moment. Even through the bonnet mask I could tell he was surprised.
I tapped my temple and gave him a smug grin.
“It’s my power,” I said. “I guess.”
Gloryhole snapped her fingers. The portal shimmered once, its interior flickering briefly as the destination shifted.
I stepped through.
The other side opened into a control hub filled with frantic movement. Monitors glowed across the walls while technicians shouted overlapping reports.
“Someone tell me what’s happening.”
A lab-coated researcher rushed toward me, nearly tripping over a cable.
“We believe it’s a Rated-30 individual,” he said breathlessly. “It might be the Entity, but we can’t say for sure. There was a massive earthquake in Faust that exposed deep crust layers, followed by volcanic eruptions across several chains and multiple tsunamis—”
“It’s Eclipse.”
I pushed past him toward the central diagram. The geological model spinning on the display confirmed everything instantly.
I turned sharply, calling to my subordinate.
“Gloryhole.”
She was already opening another portal. Moments later we stepped through again and arrived at the edge of an enormous crater.
The rest was history.
Fifteen minutes later, we were sitting inside a burger joint in Markend. Nick devoured a burger like a starving man who had rediscovered civilization.
“This is amazing,” he said between bites. “I never knew a place like this existed here.”
A massive bunny mascot danced near the play area, entertaining a group of screaming children while staff handed out balloons.
I wiped ketchup off my sleeve and gestured around.
“It’s Bunny’s Burgers,” I said. “One of the Company’s front businesses.”
Nick paused mid-bite.
I added, “I’m surprised you didn’t know about it. George told me you used to work part-time at a place called Beth’s Burger. Company bought the place and did a full rebrand.”
Nick scowled.
“No wonder this place looks familiar.”
He took another bite.
“Good burger, though.”
I shifted slightly in my seat.
It still made me nervous seeing him sitting in public like this, even with the strange distortion around his face. His intangibility camouflage bent cognition and light just enough that anyone looking directly at him would struggle to focus.
Still, having a man who could probably sink continents casually eating fast food tended to create anxiety.
He wiped his hands on a napkin.
“How did it go?” he asked. “Tell me what happened to the others.”
I kept my summary efficient.
“Griffin’s dead. Officially, anyway. Word of mouth says she’s just missing, but most people assume the worst. Same situation with you, though I doubt you’re planning a dramatic return any time soon.”
Nick grunted.
I continued.
“Nicole’s doing well. She’s been running the Company without major problems. About a year ago, a few more civilizations officially joined the alliance. There are five representatives now.”
I counted them off casually.
“This world represented by the GDF, then there’s the NSD, Eden, Lockworld, and the newest addition—Grim and MAX. You’ve probably heard of Grim. It’s the place you liberated from designation Hades.”
He nodded slowly.
“As for MAX,” I added, “that story would take a while.”
I took a sip of my drink.
“The GDF leadership also changed. Chad, Tempest, your old friend, ended up taking the top position. It was originally contested between him and Spoiler, but Spoiler gave him a vote of confidence and stepped aside.”
Nick leaned back slightly.
“What else?”
I shrugged.
“The Cult of the End is still active. SRC influence on this world is collapsing fast. Honestly, the last two years have been completely insane.”
Nick didn’t respond immediately.
Instead he asked the question I had hoped he wouldn’t ask.
“How’s Ron?”
I answered as bluntly as possible while carefully avoiding the subject.
“He returned around the same time you vanished. Probably with his mom right now. I don’t know what George was thinking—”
Nick vanished. One second he was sitting across the table. The next second his chair was empty.
I stared at the spot for a full two seconds before swearing loudly.
“Motherfucker!”
I leaned forward, staring at the air where he had been.
“Did he just teleport on me?”
My brain struggled to process the implications.
Because if he had done that with intangibility alone…
Then the power ceiling we thought existed had just been obliterated.
“I guess that’s the true nature of a Rated-30, huh? The pinnacle of a power class? Bullshit!”