Perspective: Elias Vardas

  Setting: Nexlify office break room, 4:20 PM PST – April 8, 2025

  Marcus’s [Aether Forge] unleashed the ACGC—Army of Corporate Greed and Control—zombie desks and chairs rigged with gears grinding and mana batteries glowing with eerie green light, blocky red letters marking them as enemies. We had to capture the ‘One Phone’ and dunk it in the recycle bin before they locked the filing cabinet it was trapped in—or face eternal carpal tunnel.

  My drones, three now, spat glowing nerf darts that left trails of blue light, shredding flanks, while Dennis, grinning like a maniac, smashed chairs with his [Mana Channeling Bat], yelling, ‘Coogy, move, you lazy cat!’ at his snoring cougar. The bat hummed with power, each strike sending splinters flying.

  Marcus cringed, pinching the bridge of his nose, “Your pet naming rights are hereby revoked Dennis. Worst name ever.”

  “My power, my choice, esei.“ Dennis countered, his texan spiced spanglish butchering Marcus’s native tongue.

  Coogy stirred, stretching with a groan and a yawn that showed off every tooth. “Stop complainin’. We’ll eat later. Get yer ass over here, those chairs on the flank are givin’ me the heebie-jeebies. Eli, circle ‘em, force ‘em back into the line!”

  I chuckled, a surge of adrenaline and something akin to glee bubbling up as I flicked commands to my drones. They danced through the air, weaving between the shambling desks, each shot a precise burst of mana-infused force. Dozens of magical nerf darts spat out from the three flying disks, striking the chairs and desks with satisfying thumps, styrofoam and rubber raining fake death on the converging furniture

  “Stop!” Marcus barked, ending the brawl. “You’re way out of sync, Eli.” He spun, jabbing a finger at me, his voice tight with frustration. “Dennis shouldn’t have to call that out. I moved those chairs on purpose and you never even looked their way. Dennis, keep the front tight, organized. Big strikes are great, but you are too slow with that bat. Coogy’s got to stick closer. If we fought tonight, we’d be toast.”

  Dennis, unfazed by Marcus’s lecture, twisted an enemy chair and plopped down, the metal groaning in protest. “This is dumb, Marcus,” he countered, leaning back as if relaxing in front of a fire. “We’re never facing enemies lined up like this.”

  “That just proves how dumb you are,” TJ snapped, her voice cutting through the air. “Lines maximize combat potential, minimize risk. Covering edges keeps us secure and lets us hit harder. Look..”, she sighed, shaking away a bad memory, the brief flicker of pain in her eyes gone as fast as it appeared, “Whatever comes, it’ll be overwhelming. We have to confuse ‘em, separate their numbers. Cut their strength with movement and coordination, or we will die.”

  “Oh my God!” Alicia’s cry sliced the argument dead, her face paling, tears streaking down. “They’re dying.”

  The TV blared, a helicopter hovering shakily over the Galleria in Dallas, TX. A jagged black oval, purple-ish distortions bleeding from its edges like a wound in reality, pulsed ominously over a dozen feet tall in the parking lot. Creatures born from nightmares poured out—six-foot-tall praying mantises, their black-purple shells glinting under the harsh glare of the news chopper’s spotlight, scythe-like arms reaping limbs and gore with sickening ease.

  “Jesus, that’s Dallas.” Dennis muttered, voice heavy, all traces of his earlier bravado gone.

  The police had arrived and, using their cars for cover, fired at the monsters with pistols, rifles and shotguns. Whenever a bullet hit a creature, black ichor shot out and it stumbled back injured. Dozens had poured out, their numbers swelling, and Alicia, with the rest of the country, watched in horrified fascination as the brave officers were dismembered on live television. The camera zoomed in on one officer, his face contorted in a silent scream as a mantis effortlessly sheared through his body armor.

  The scene continued as the reporter’s shaking voice attempted to describe what was happening. “... it’s a massacre John, actual monsters started flowing out of what officials are calling a Void Portal and have killed and injured dozens already. Officials are advising anyone in the area to seek shelter immediately and avoid the windows.”

  The man behind the anchor desk, John Glisgow, his face grim, struggled to maintain composure as he relayed the feed to the viewers. “Lila, can you give us an update on the situation? Are the police enough to contain this,” he paused, searching “incursion? Are officials bringing more resources into the area to fight this?”

  “John, it’s chaos on the ground. I have not heard any specific plans, but officials have stated that every option is on the table. We have also just received word that SWAT teams have been dispatched to the scene. This is truly…”

  Her statement was interrupted by a massive flash of greenish-white light, so intense it bleached an image on the screen for a split second, leaving a ghostly afterimage. Then, white-hot lightning arced from one monster to the next, connecting them in a dazzling web of energy, each creature frozen in a grotesque ballet of death for a heartbeat.

  A civilian, dressed in jeans and a dark jacket, stepped into the frame, his hands still crackling with fading energy, as if he'd just casually dismissed a swarm of flies. He cast another bolt of lightning from his palm, this one a concentrated lance that pierced through a half-dozen creatures at once, the impact ripping them apart.

  After a few more blasts, the immediate area was clear, the air thick with the acrid smell of ozone and burnt chitin. The police officers exchanged a few words with the man, their expressions a mix of awe and disbelief, as more creatures poured from the portal, eager to avenge their fallen kin. The fight was far from over.

  Another concussive blast rocked the area, the shockwave rippling outwards and momentarily distorting the camera's feed. When the image stabilized, a woman was visible, hovering a dozen feet in the air, her arms moving in graceful arcs. Debris became her weapons—chunks of shattered concrete, twisted metal from shopping carts, and car parts ripped free from their frames all ascended, swirling around her like a chaotic orbit.

  With a gesture, she unleashed the barrage.

  Thousands of pounds of projectiles rained down on the massed creatures, each impact a wet crunch of chitin and flesh, sending black ichor splattering across the street. The ground trembled under the assault, and even through the TV speakers, the roar of destruction was deafening.

  Despite the amazing display of power, the creatures kept coming. Relentlessly, they spat from the portal, popping into existence and immediately attacking. The officers and the two civilians fought desperately, and just when it seemed the defenders would be overwhelmed, a new sound pierced the chaos—the screech of tires and the roar of engines.

  “John, hold on, something is happening!” Lila shouted over the din.

  Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  The camera swung wildly, catching the arrival of two black vans that slid to a halt, their doors bursting open. Men in black armor poured out, moving with a practiced coordination that spoke of countless hours of training.

  “John, it looks like the SWAT team has arrived,” Lila's voice crackled through the comms, the helicopter camera struggling to maintain a steady shot.

  Minutes stretched into an eternity, the air thick with tension. The creatures continued their relentless advance, their numbers seemingly endless. The two awakened, however, fought with a ferocity that defied belief. The lightning-wielding man moved with an almost supernatural speed, each precise bolt turning the creatures into charred husks. The woman, hovering above the fray, directed a constant barrage of debris, pulverizing the enemy with devastating force.

  Flash bangs erupted in a dazzling sequence, momentarily blinding the creatures and disrupting their advance. Smoke grenades billowed outwards, creating a dense screen that obscured the defending team's movements.

  “John, it looks like they're trying to create an opening, a window for the Awakened to strike!”

  While the creatures were disoriented, the SWAT team laid down a withering hail of covering fire, forcing the monsters to recoil. It was then that the awakened fighters seized the opportunity. The lightning man unleashed a concentrated barrage, his bolts finding their marks with deadly accuracy. The woman, using the smoke as cover, launched a devastating attack from above, her projectiles striking with the force of a meteor shower. Even with the SWAT team's support, however, the tide of the battle remained uncertain.

  The creatures, though momentarily stunned, continued to press forward, their determination seemingly unyielding.

  “This is definitely magic, John, no doubt about it.” Lila’s trembling voice cut through the maelstrom below, “They are really pounding the creatures as they exit the portal, but as we can see, live on NBC 5, they are slowly pushing against the defenders. John, I fear if these officers do not get more help, we could be witnessing a disaster.”

  The camera zoomed out, showing the desperate struggle unfolding against the backdrop of the ominous portal, a stark reminder of the overwhelming threat they faced. Lila was just about to describe the scene, her voice rising in pitch, when a new figure blurred into existence. He arrived like a force of nature, a human wrecking ball.

  He was big, even larger than the SWAT officers, wearing a faded Dallas Cowboys jersey stretched tight across his chest and dark pants tucked into scuffed work boots. He moved with a speed that defied the eye, a raw power that dwarfed anything seen so far. His glowing red fists blurred as they connected with the creatures, each impact a sickening crunch of chitin and bone. The force of his blows sent shockwaves rippling outwards, shattering the creatures' hard shells and sending them flying. Black ichor splattered the street, painting a gruesome tableau. The creatures, momentarily stunned by the sheer ferocity of the assault, recoiled in disarray.

  “Jerry Jones needs to sign that guy,” Dennis murmured, a flicker of awe replacing his earlier fear.

  After the new guy arrived, the creatures' hold over the entrance shattered. Many of the void creatures fled from the area, attacking anything that moved in a desperate attempt to escape.

  Reacting quickly, the police formed task groups to neutralize the remaining stragglers, their sirens wailing as they fanned out across the streets. Finally able to compose themselves, the SWAT officers and the awakened civilians converged near the portal, exchanging rapid words and urgent gestures. To those watching on TV, it was a confusing flurry of activity. The civilians were waving their arms, pointing into the swirling darkness of the portal, motioning for the officers to follow. The officers, initially hesitant, turned to their on-site commander.

  After a brief nod, a silent agreement seemed to pass between them. Then, with a sudden, coordinated movement, they all turned and jumped into the portal, disappearing one by one into the swirling depths.

  Lila, the reporter, could only stammer in disbelief.

  “Um John, I am not sure what just happened.” Lila’s near panicked voice cut across the scene like a knife. “The officers and civilians, who just stopped this invasion, are now inside the portal. We have no idea what was said, and I can only speculate about what they are encountering. There is no doubt it’s worse than what they faced here.”

  The TV reporter began recounting the encounter and relaying her viewpoint of the scene as it continued below. The officers that survived the initial encounter were now swarming their colleagues and other civilians caught up in the battle, their faces a mixture of exhaustion and disbelief. Multiple ambulances and firetrucks also appeared, their sirens adding to the cacophony, helping to administer aid and put out the fires that had broken out. Slowly, a chilling realization dawned on everyone as more time passed. The team had jumped into the portal over ten minutes ago, but nothing had come out since then.

  “Eli, do you think they are doing something to cause the creatures to not come through?” Alicia asked, her concern growing as the minutes ticked by.

  “That is certainly possible,” Elias agreed, “their actions of entering the portal might prevent the creatures from coming through. I think our opinion of what is possible or not, will need to drastically change, though. The creatures seemed driven to cause as much destruction and death as possible. When that first started, the officers had no chance. When those three showed up, things changed. The creatures couldn’t handle them at all. This can’t be a coincidence.”

  “I saw that too.” TJ agreed, “What do you think it means?”

  “I think it means we need to anticipate more of these portals opening.” TJ began, her voice raising as she ticked off each point, “I think The System came because those portals would start showing up. I think that portal is part of a scouting group. Later, larger forces come through, organize and start operating.” TJ added, her pensive stare at the TV finally softening.

  They watched for a few minutes longer, the silence heavy with unspoken dread, until the portal started shaking. It looked like someone had punched it from the other side, the once-solid black surface rippling and distorting as if struck by a colossal fist. The purple-black distortions along the edges of the portal began to spark with white and gold flecks, spirals of energy snapping away like errant lightning.

  The portal bulged outward, the fabric of reality groaning in protest, and then it burped out two members of the SWAT team. They fell hard, sprawling onto the ruined street, covered head-to-toe in glistening blackish-red gore. For a moment, everyone held their breath, a sickening lurch in their stomachs, unsure if they had survived. Then, as they pushed themselves up, weapons raised, the tension broke.

  Less than a second later, two more officers emerged, running this time, their boots pounding on the shattered asphalt, taking up position next to the other officers. A full five seconds of agonizing silence passed when the portal lit up in a blinding flash of greenish light, and the lightning man emerged, followed closely by the woman, still gliding above the ground.

  They turned and screamed in unison into the portal, their voices echoing with a desperate urgency, “Now Arthur, do it now!”.

  The portal shimmered once, then pulsed outward, expanding to twice its previous size. The purple-black distortions were now full-blown storms of chaotic energy as the portal began unraveling. Spinning downward in a tight arc, the portal shrank with alarming speed until it was less than five feet tall. A deafening whooshing sound blared through the TV speakers, and the helicopter briefly lost focus on the shot as the air swirled wildly around the closing portal.

  “Get out of there Arthur. Get out now!!” One of the officers shouted, his battered body straining against the winds.

  The portal shook once more, and with a final, sickening pop, the last civilian flew out, tumbling through the air covered in a reddish glow and scraps of what used to be his clothes. The civilian landed heavily and barely moved amidst the surrounding carnage as the portal finished closing and vanished, leaving behind an eerie silence.

  Then, as the realization of what had happened washed over them, Alicia whooped loudly, and everyone in the office break room erupted in cheers and applause. The portal was closed, and the people who went in had survived. Hope blossomed all across the country as people realized they had a fighting chance, but a nagging unease lingered - what was so important that they risked it all?