They say that the impact of truth, when left untold for too long, can be devastating especially when that truth was critical from the very beginning. Stories of the legendary Overwhelm stretch back through time, passed down from one generation to the next, and always cast in the same light.
as the villains, the monsters lurking in the dark. No one ever wanted to hear their side of the story; they were discarded, judged, and forgotten. Years of suffering piled on, and with them, truths accumulated, buried beneath lies and fear. But when those truths finally emerged, humanity learned the hard way that some things are better left in the past. And every lie we tell only brings us closer to the truth, especially when that truth is bound to hurt someone.
This time, that truth was embodied in Julius Haine and his crew. They were not interested in negotiations; they sought only vengeance, which they believed was justice. The tragic part was that they truly thought they were delivering justice, and they were prepared to turn the entire world to dust if that was what it took to make their voices heard.
The threat to kill the president rattled the general to his core. Watching the video, he felt an urgency that could not be ignored. Julius didn't seem like the kind of man who made empty threats; it was written all over his face, in his eyes, in every word he spoke. He meant every single one of them.
The situation was dire. They were out of time, and one wrong move could cost them both the president and the war. A fearsome battle was about to break out right inside the city. Civilians were in danger, and there was no time to evacuate them. Even if there were, it wasn't like Julius would allow it.
He wanted everyone in the city to bear witness as he seized control of the nation by force. Any attempt to save the city could be seen as sacrificing the president's life, which was not an option. If the president died at their hands, the people would lose hope, the soldiers would lose their will to fight, and the country would be left vulnerable, ready to be ruled by anyone with the power to claim it.
The general had no choice but to turn the entire city into a battlefield. "Soldiers, arm yourselves! We're going in!" he commanded with a heavy heart. "But sir, if we open fire in the city, civilians could die, or worse—the whole city will become a war zone," Steve protested. "And what are you suggesting?" the general inquired sharply. "That we evacuate the city first, then go to war," Steve proposed.
"I agree," the captain chimed in. "It's a good plan, but by the time you finish, the president will be long dead. If you want to save the city, you have to do it in less than twenty seconds. Do you think you can do that?" the general challenged, looking around the room.
The silence that followed was telling. The task was impossible, at least for any ordinary human. "I'll do it," Guion said suddenly, his voice cutting through the tension like a knife.
"What! Didn't you hear what I just said?" Royer barked. "You're gonna need a miracle to pull that off." "Oh, come on," Erick interjected. "If the man says he can do it, then let him. Besides, it's not like you have anything to lose." "You just insulted me, Erick," Royer shot back, his tone dark. "I wouldn't dream of it," Erick replied smoothly.
"How considerate of you," Royer said sarcastically. He then turned to Guion, standing close to him now. "Erick seems to think you can do it. He trusts you. Don't fail at whatever you think you can pull off."
Guion listened quietly, his expression unreadable. Without another word, he walked a few meters away, leaving them all behind as he faced directly toward the White House. Slowly, he brought his hands in front of his face, forming an X with his palms facing outward and his elbows raised to form a perfect horizontal line. He closed his eyes.
As he began to separate his hands, the ground beneath them started to tremble. The wind gathered around him, swirling until it enveloped the entire city. He stopped moving his hands when they reached a 180-degree angle, and then he began to lower them toward his lower body. His hair billowed upward as the wind surged from the ground, and the vibrations intensified. The wind thickened, forming a dense barrier around Guion, obscuring him from view. The soldiers struggled to see what he was doing, their unease growing with each passing second.
Royer, his voice edged with panic, shouted over the commotion, "What the hell is he doing?!"
"Evacuating the city," Erick replied, a smile playing on his lips.
"This sure as hell doesn't look like it!" Royer snapped back.
"Maybe from this angle," Erick retorted, unbothered.
Royer raised his hand to his ear, activating the communication wire. "Jimmy! Jimmy, do you copy?" he yelled, trying to reach one of the snipers positioned in the surrounding buildings. "What the hell is happening out there?"
"I must be seeing things, sir," Jimmy responded, his voice shaky.
"What kind of things?" Royer demanded, his frustration mounting.
"It's the city... It's sinking," Jimmy replied, his tone disbelieving.
"What?" Royer roared. He couldn't believe it, convinced that Jimmy was seeing things. But his disbelief was quickly shattered as four more snipers confirmed the impossible: the city was indeed sinking into the ground.
Minutes later, every building, every house, every civilian began to descend as well. Even the asphalted roads disappeared from the face of the earth. Royer was left speechless, as were the other soldiers. "Look at that," a female officer murmured in awe. "He's actually working miracles."
As Guion opened his eyes, his pupils had vanished, replaced by a blank white void. The city sank faster now, leaving only the military, their equipment, the White House, and everything inside it above ground. The snipers, who had been inside buildings, suddenly found themselves standing in the open air alongside those who had already been outside. The helicopters were gently brought to the ground, unable to escape the force pulling everything else below. It was as if Washington itself had vanished from the map.
Puzzled by Guion's spectacular display of power, Royer was brought back to his senses. He bent down, scooping up a handful of soil, rubbing it between his fingers as he contemplated the situation. Behind him, his troops waited for his command. "If this is the kind of power we're going up against, forget everything I said about them being our citizens. Shoot to kill," he ordered, not even bothering to look them in the eye. His gaze remained fixed on the White House, his expression hardening with resolve.
As Royer rose to his feet, Erick approached him, speaking in a low, urgent tone. "We just need our soldiers to stay alive long enough for their leader to be defeated. I believe that once their leader falls, the fight will stop, and it will all be as if none of this ever happened."
"But we have to draw them out first," Erick added, his voice tinged with determination.
"Leave that to me," Royer replied, his tone grim. Erick nodded in agreement, then turned to walk toward the White House alongside Guion. But before they got far, Erick paused and called out to Royer. "Yo! Royer!" he shouted over his shoulder.
"Talk to me, kiddo," Royer replied, his voice steady.
"You, on the other hand, might need to hold back a bit. You're more of an animal than any of them," Erick said with a half-smile.
Royer chuckled darkly. "I'll take that as a compliment. If I live, that is."
Royer then turned to face his troops, his voice commanding as he gave the final orders. "All units in position. It's showtime." He walked confidently toward the centre of the military vehicles, ordering the helicopters to take flight. As they lifted off, Erick smiled to himself while walking alongside Guion, whispering, "You will."