The Pentagon stood imposingly against the morning sky, its stone facade bathed in the soft light of dawn. From the outside, it seemed like any other day, calm and orderly.
But inside, the atmosphere was anything but serene. High alert and panic reigned supreme, the air thick with tension.
Phones rang incessantly, their shrill tones piercing through the chaos. Screens lit up with urgent messages, casting a cold glow over the faces of the staff who were moving frantically.
People dashed from one room to another, papers in hand, voices raised in a desperate attempt to make sense of the pandemonium that had erupted after the Nevada incident.
In stark contrast to the bust atmosphere outside, the Vice President's office was a haven of unnatural quiet. The heavy door muffled the sounds of the chaos beyond, creating an almost surreal sense of isolation.
The Vice President sat at his desk, his face etched with fatigue. Dark circles underscored his eyes, evidence of the sleepless night he'd endured.
He was hunched over his computer, fingers tapping away on the keyboard. The screen's pale light highlighted the lines on his weary face as he composed a report, his thoughts heavy with the weight of the situation.
And If anyone could look at his creen from over his shoulder he or she will be able to see a grim report that start with the following words.
[The words of one of our founding fathers have lingered with me through these last few sleepless nights:
"To be prepared for war is one of the most effective means of preserving peace."
Mankind has always prepared for war because we have always faced an enemy we know intimately: our fellow man. For a long time, we were the only enemy we truly knew. But over the past seventy years, everything has changed.
Mutants that defy the natural order. Pale creatures that walks the night, folklore monsters we once believed existed only in stories. And the most outrageous of all, aliens from beyond Earth.
These threats have plagued our glorious nation for decades. Yet, despite it all, we managed to maintain the facade of normalcy.
But now, I sit here with a report of great importance, one I must present to the president in a few hours.
A report we had to claw from the clutches of the Shield organization with the threat of branding them America's number one enemy if they didn't comply.
Inside that report lies information that makes me want to hand the president my resignation letter along with it.
This report speaks of an entity from beyond the stars, possessing the power of a god.
This being can summon giant tsunamis and render the very earth beneath our feet charred and broken.
The trail of carnage it left in it wake is undeniable.
We saw this firsthand in the recent events in Nevada. Almost the entire desert has become a forbidden zone, with lava and fire still raging strong weeks after the entity's gave it a visit.
Then there's the North Pole, where our agents discovered a city-sized hole under the sea, as if a miniature sun had struck the ocean floor.
What kind of unholy power is this? To accomplish all of this with ease in under an hour, as if taking a walk in the park?
But the most outrageous part was when we were getting ready for the worst nationwide panic since September 11th and we brainstormed some ways to calm the masses, but in the end it was all for nothing.
there was no panic at all. It was as if the entire population memories had been reseted overnight!! People went about their daily routines, completely oblivious to the cataclysmic events that had unfolded.
The devastation in Nevada, the towering pillars of lava, the aftermath of the battle—none of it seemed to exist in the public consciousness.
That Alien had wiped their memories had been meticulous, leaving no trace of the fear and chaos. Yet,the alien who had tampered with the collective memory had deliberately left the memories of those in power intact. It was as if it was done on purpose, a calculated move to send a chilling message or a stark warning.
And the most frustrating thing in all of this is, this report in front of me contains neither a name nor a picture of the unknown alien. This leads me to believe that Shield has not given us all the information they have.
Because we were able to capture an image of the alien via our satellite, yet Shield claims to have almost no information on him other than what they've given us!!
Traitors! All of them. If it were up to me, I would immediately imprison half of these self-centered traitors and absorb the other half into our intelligence agencies. But, fortunately for them, the higher-ups think otherwise.
Setting that aside, our main issue is that we have no idea where this alien, whom we've code-named Cataclysm, is at the moment.
We're stretched thin, trying to search for Cataclysm while simultaneously blocking every international spy from getting even a whiff of information about him.
I'd like to say that we've managed to prevent any leaks about him, but somehow, the country of Latveria has found out.
Dr. Victor von Doom, the leader of Latveria, is a colossal and unpredictable headache for the American government on normal days, let alone when he possesses top-level national secrets. And there's nothing we can do about it; after all, Latveria provides the USA with 12% of its advanced weaponry.
Perhaps we can strike a deal where they help us locate the alien in exchange for something reasonable we can offer them in return.]
The Vice President stopped typing for a moment, massaging his eyelid with his fingers.He was a man in his early sixties with graying hair neatly combed back and sharp blue eyes now bloodshot from sleepless nights. His tall frame filled out a crisp navy suit, and a small American flag pin gleamed on his lapel.
The exhaustion was visible on his face , but so was the frustration building up inside him from just thinking he had to ask a country he believed is beneath him in every aspect except few for help.
After a deep breath, he resumed typing, his fingers hammering the keyboard with a fury fueled by sleepless nights and mounting stress.
"Where is this goddamn alien?" he muttered under his breath. "How can it be so hard to find a single entity?!"
He tried to go on writing the report but at the time all he can see in his line of sight is red!
He slammed his fist on the desk, causing a few papers to flutter to the ground. The room's silence contrasted starkly with the chaos he felt inside. His voice rose in frustration, echoing off the walls.
"We have the best technology, the most advanced satellites, and still, nothing! What are all these agencies even doing? Are they all just incompetent?"
He paused, taking another moment to collect himself. His breathing was heavy, and the veins on his forehead were visible.
Those same veins would have popped if the Vice President knew where Noah was at that moment.
Thousands of kilometers away, in the heart of Tokyo, a newly built shrine by the royal family hosted a scene that would have infuriated the Vice President.
Noah was surrounded by beautiful women of all kinds and shapes.
Black-haired women.
Blonde-haired women.
And the redhead on whose lap he was currently resting his head.
Some of the of women were feeding him.
Some of them were playing an instruments for him.
And Some of them were holding him into their bosom while smiling at him.
Such a sight would surely have caused the Vice President, who had been searching for Noah for almost a month, to pop a vein and then pass out from sheer anger.
And i can hear some of you asking how did our MC ending in such envious satiation.
Well you see, it all started when he woke up for his long dream. It was a sunny day at the glories temple of Kamar-Taj, the birds were chirping happily and the . . . . . .
( To be continued )
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[Drink water and fix your sitting posture or else (points a gun) A/N]