The World Fractures (Month 2-3)

By Day Sixty, the steady, throbbing ache of uncertainty had replaced the searing jolt of Day One. Humanity had not come up with a solution three months after Victor Aurelius had taken the globe prisoner; instead, it had grimly adapted to live in the shadow of his dying heart. The first fear gave way not to relief but to a tense, fragile new reality in which the end of the world was less than three hundred days away and not just a theoretical idea.

Mortally wounded in the first few hours, the world economy twitched feebly on life support. Global commerce had slowed to a sluggish pace. Complicated supply systems that were hungry of parts and trust broke apart and fell apart. It was common for shelves that had been cleared off during the initial panic to never be entirely refilled. This meant restriction, shortages, and the unsettling sight of once-bustling shopping malls lying motionless and half-empty in wealthy countries. It resulted in widespread starvation, the breakdown of necessary medical supplies, and a dramatic descent into subsistence existence in less fortunate areas. A tank of hoarded gasoline for a bag of rice, antibiotics for safe travel, and information for food are examples of the old barter systems that people resorted to when hyperinflation made currencies useless in various nations.

Even society gave way under the pressure. Trust was eroded by fear, the great corrosive factor. Local and national borders became more rigid. In addition to providing security, nations sent troops to manage the frantic exodus of internal refugees from resource-depleted areas or coastal towns. The wealthy fled to highly guarded private communities in large cities, leaving large portions of the metropolis to struggle with declining public services, an increase in crime, and a growing sense of desolation. Originally established for mutual aid, neighborhood watch groups frequently turned into paranoid militias that ruthlessly guarded their meager resources.

The effects of the psychological toll showed up in strange and terrifying ways. Fear and uncertainty were fertile ground for "End Cults." Near the Vatican in Rome, self-styled prophets called for worldwide repentance while preaching fire and brimstone. Under the motto "Live Like It's the Last Year," hedonistic cults in California hosted progressively extravagant and frantic parties while embracing nihilism. More concerningly, cults based on Victor Aurelius himself developed; these were hidden organizations that viewed him as a necessary catalyst, a dark messiah who was driving humanity into either a merited extinction or a painful rebirth. They were said to be looking for methods to'support' his objective, conducted covert vigils, and disseminated his terrifying ideas online. They were resisted by ardent survivalist movements that carefully prepared for "Day Zero," stocked up on weapons, and saw all strangers as possible dangers.

Paralysis ruled the geopolitical stage. The UN Security Council remained impassed, with never-ending discussions on disarmament verification procedures concealing the more fundamental fact that no major power had enough faith in its adversaries to remove its arsenal, even if oblivion were the alternative. Espionage grew significantly behind the scenes. In an effort to gain advantage in the expected post-Aurelius turmoil, assuming there was such a world, agencies rushed not only to locate Aurelius's "Aerie," but also to investigate gaps in rivals' conventional forces. In the shadow of the ultimate weapon, tensions erupted along disputed borders, such as those between Russia and its neighbors and India and Pakistan, not because of nuclear strategy but rather because of depleting water supplies, cross-border refugee flows, and minor conflicts.

Like a wraith, Alex Reed moved through this crumbling world, using the turmoil as a cloak and a barrier. Checkpoints, unreliable transportation, and anxious, watching eyes made travel a misery. In the face of overcrowded networks and prying surveillance, secure communication was a never-ending battle. But there were also gaps left by the disintegration. Fuel or medication could be used to bribe border officers. Unofficial movements received less attention from distracted intelligence services. After losing their cozy delusions, people were occasionally more inclined to speak and reveal long-kept secrets in return for a false sense of security.

During the third month, he was temporarily in Istanbul. A former Aurelius engineer who was allegedly hiding there was Thorne's potential lead. Alex met the contact in a small, dimly lit tea house tucked away in a labyrinth of alleys close to the Spice Bazaar, rather than in a shiny new hotel. The city's typically lively vitality was tempered by a pervasive sense of unease. The Bosphorus had fewer tourist boats and more gray naval ships sitting anchored, looking nervously authoritative. Bread lines were quieter and longer. Crowds prayed fervently at the Blue Mosque, while in the more secular areas, nervousness was expressed through whispered talks and wary looks. The engineer turned out to be a dead end; he was paranoid, unwell, and had no useful memory of Aurelius's deep-sea ventures from the past. The short journey merely highlighted the widespread fear that pervaded the world.

Alex returned to his recurring sequence of private, secure rooms—borrowed safe homes, abandoned warehouses, and motel basements—and concentrated on the last remaining option: the psychological deep dive. He located family members of those slain in the Khartoum blast by accessing sealed witness protection files with Thorne's assistance. Through shaky, highly encrypted video chats, he conducted interviews with them, carefully eliciting their recollections of Victor before to the disaster, including his relationship with his wife, his children, his hopes, and his concerns. He was searching for emotional fault lines rather than tactical knowledge.

He compared these disjointed narratives with Victor's few early works, which were esoteric philosophical articles and scholarly works on game theory written under false names. Working remotely with a former Agency profiler Thorne had persuaded to return to work, he incorporated everything into intricate psych-profile models, including interview transcripts, linguistic analysis of Victor's letters, information on the Khartoum explosion, and the Chimera event involving Dr. Thorne.

"The trauma response is classic, but amplified by extreme narcissism and intellect," Dr. Anya Sharma said while speaking in a tinny voice over the secure channel. "Khartoum was a fundamental breach of his sense of control, not just a loss. He was unable to foresee the tragedy or shield his family. It is a hideous overcompensation, this Damocles Protocol. He is now in charge of everything, has absolute authority, and makes sure that nothing—not even the end of the world—occurs without his approval.

"But why now?" Alex shoved. "The bombing was fifteen years ago."

"The terminal diagnosis," was Sharma's theory. It brought back an aspect that could not be controlled: his own mortality. His hand was compelled to do so. Since he had no influence over his own death, he connected it to the destiny of the entire planet. It is his last, perverse attempt to bring order to chaos and give cosmic purpose to his pointless death.

There was a terrifying logic to it. However, it was insufficient. Something like a lever was what Alex needed. He continued his investigation, going over the Khartoum documents again and concentrating on the immediate aftermath. Despite being hurt in the explosion, Victor lived. Neither had his wife and two small children. Alex's team had been conducting peripheral monitoring rather than direct action, and the official report blamed poor intelligence for a misguided drone strike by a neighboring country's agency during a time of regional unrest. But there were contradictions and murmurs everywhere.

Alex discovered it late one evening while going over a heavily redacted annex to the Khartoum After Action Report. One short, unfiltered footnote mentioning a found piece of communication from shortly before the strike. The piece, which appeared to have come from Victor's personal security detail and mentioned a last-minute alteration to his wife's scheduled movements for the day—information that may have been communicated insecurely—was not from the attacking agency.

Is it possible that the bombing was an inside job? A betrayal? Maybe it wasn't Victor, but his family? Was it only an additional layer of paranoia? No other information was provided in the file; the following lines were obliterated by black ink. However, it was something. a doubtful seed. A possible story Victor himself might not understand or agree with. Not only was he vulnerable to pain, but he was also vulnerable to possible betrayal by others, which may have been a result of Alex's neglect at the time.

It was frail and thin, buried behind fifteen years of anger and sorrow. However, it was the first concrete connection Alex had discovered that went straight to the core of Victor's anguish and might hold the secret to letting him into the stronghold.