As Om followed by Pietro, stepped near door and pressed the fingerprints and entered the building. When he went inside into the dimly lit room of Genesis Labs, he felt an unsettling chill slip down his spine. Though this was not the first time coming in the office at weekends, the air was thick, almost stifling, like it was alive with dread. He rushed to his workstation, his fingers trembling as they hovered over the interface. The silence in the lab was oppressive, broken only by the low hum of machines and the distant sounds of chaos seeping in from the world outside.
With a swipe, he activated the interface. The screen flickered to life in a deep, haunting blue, the color casting eerie shadows across his face. Aether's voice, familiar yet strained, echoed through the quiet room.
"Boss," Aether greeted, its tone weighted with concern. "I'm detecting multiple network jammers across Sokovia. Communications have been… compromised."
Om's fingers flew over the console, his movements sharp with urgency. "What do you mean, compromised? Give me a full report!"
Then, Aether's voice plus classic royal blue interface showed some statistics.
"Boss," Aether's voice greeted him, a mix of warmth and concern. "I'm detecting multiple network jammers across Sokovia. Communications have been disrupted."
"Tell me what's happening!" Om demanded, his fingers flying over the interface, piecing together the information now pouring in.
"Sokovia is being jammed; all satellite and network connections have been severed. I've only managed to bypass through local infrastructure. I'm detecting high-level military-grade signatures across the region," Aether responded calmly, though Om's heart pounded with panic.
"But when I was home, only the satellite connection was lost, right?" Om pressed, an edge of desperation slipping into his voice.
"Yes, boss. If you were at home 15 minutes ago, then you are correct," Aether confirmed.
Hearing this, Om's premonition began to solidify into a grim reality. The pieces were falling into place, each one heavier than the last.
He glanced at the small tablet and earpiece he kept tucked away, his hands shaking as he retrieved them. They were just projects—devices he'd tinkered with to pass time, testing his limits. Now, they felt like his last lifeline. He activated them with a single touch, setting them to relay network connections. If his family was in danger, he needed every advantage. He adjusted earpiece in his ear and began writing the algorithm.
"Have you collected any information on what's happening outside?" Om's brow furrowed as he paused thinking about the incident.
"A few pieces are coming in, but they're fragmented," Aether replied. "I have reports from various sources: military activity has increased across Sokovia, and I discovered links to the Ten Rings. I believe they might be involved, connected to the heightened military operations we've detected."
Om's mind raced. Seeing the jammers being installed, it meant scale was larger and it can be classified as war or extermination of any party. Since, military was exercised ,it meant the other party, Ten Rings—the same name tied to terrorism lately in the sources in illegal sources was probably going to extinct. But ten rings is not a small group so, the implications were staggering.
"Yesterday," Aether continued, pulling Om from his train of thoughts, "there were reports of unusual disappearances across Sokovia. Individuals have been taken away under mysterious circumstances, but no one knows why or who is behind it. The chaos seems to be escalating rapidly."
Om's stomach twisted as a wave of nausea swept through him. This set of info again, showed the lack of knowledge regarding the matter. He didn't know who were capturing the Sokovians maybe this was all connected: suddenly, his nightmare surged back, sharp and vivid. The bombshell, blurred in his dreams, now crystallized in horrifying detail.
After the remembrance of the nightmare, he trembled as he thought of the events that happened in dream.
Shock and rage flooded his heart. "Why didn't you tell me this sooner?" he asked stopping his action, his voice strained.
"I couldn't access the full reports from home due to the network disruptions," Aether explained, steady despite the urgency in the room.
"That's all I have at the moment," Aether added. "I'm trying to gather more information, but the interference is strong. The military presence is increasing, and I suspect they might be targeting civilians for a reason."
Om's breath came fast and shallow as he turned back to the console. Fingers darting over the keys, and he finished his earlier act, now Aether can access the nearby devices and contact om for future notices. With that, he initiated a search for nearby network terminals. He needed access—real, unjammed access. Which would solve the doubt and planning of the both military and the other party.
Lines of code scrolled rapidly across the screen as he worked, bypassing layers of security until he found an auxiliary communication channel linked to a government relay. It wasn't foolproof, but it would have to do.
With a final keystroke, he tapped into the terminal and sifted through encrypted messages. His eyes widened as the truth unfolded—targeted strikes planned on civilian areas, including sectors near his home. His chest tightened. The family. Panic set in as he tried connecting back to his house, but each attempt hit a wall. The network was severed, no signal strong enough to breach it.
He reached for his backup: a custom-made phone as a backup at home for unfortunate time and that was impervious to electromagnetic attacks. With trembling hands, he dialed for it through interconnected network, heart hammering as he waited for the connection. After an agonizing few seconds, his mother's voice came through, laced with confusion.
"Om?"
"Mom, listen to me," Om said urgently. "Don't panic. I need you, Dad, Wanda, and Pietro to stay in my room. Lock the door and stay there until I call you again, do you understand?"
A pause, then Iryna's voice, gentle but strained. "Om, what's happening?"
"Please, just trust me," Om's voice cracked. "I'll explain later. Just do this for me, please."
Before he could say more, a distant rumble reached his ears through the office walls. It was followed by a low, resonant boom that sent shivers down his spine.
"Om, that doesn't sound good," Pietro said, his playful demeanor replaced by genuine fear.
Before Om could respond, the blaring of the office alarm system confirmed his worst fears. The urgency in the air turned electric, sharp with danger. Something catastrophic was happening outside— and his family was at risk.
Heart pounding, Om's instincts kicked in. "We have to get home. Now!" he yelled, and the two brothers bolted from Genesis Labs, adrenaline coursing through their veins.
As Om and Pietro sprinted through the streets, chaos exploded around them. They barely dodged a pile of debris as a building crumbled nearby, the ground trembling beneath their feet. The sky was choked with smoke, thick and black, casting the city in a surreal darkness. In every direction, people ran, soldiers shouted orders, and the distant rumble of explosions grew closer with each step.
Om grabbed Pietro's arm as they rounded a corner, his grip tight. "Stay close!" he barked, his voice a hard edge of desperation.
Pietro's wide eyes reflected the flickering glow of fires around them. "Om, what's happening? Why is everything…?" His voice trailed off, fear choking him.
"We're going to find out," Om said, his voice tense, barely concealing the anger and guilt simmering beneath his fear.
Finally, they turned the last corner to see their home, battered and broken. Windows shattered, walls crumbled, and the sight stole the breath from Om's lungs.
"Wanda! Mom! Dad!" he cried, sprinting through the wreckage without a second thought. The once familiar living room was a landscape of chaos, strewn with broken furniture and scattered memories.
Then, he saw Wanda. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she sat beside their father, Olek, who leaned against a wall, his leg bandaged and bleeding.
"Wanda! What happened? Where's Mom?" Om's voice cracked, the urgency clawing at his chest.
Wanda's lips trembled as she looked up, her eyes filled with anguish. "Om, I… I don't know. She was in the kitchen when everything happened," she whispered, the words barely audible over the pounding of his heart.
Olek's face was pale, streaked with blood and pain. "Om, it was sudden—a beam hit her. It happened so fast," he said, wincing with each word. "Help me—"
But before Olek could finish, Om's resolve hardened. He turned sharply to Pietro, his voice fierce, eyes blazing. "Take Dad and Wanda to safety!" he commanded, already pushing himself toward the kitchen, ignoring the pleas and shouts behind him.
"Om! Stop! Don't go back in there!" Olek's shout came, hoarse with fear and desperation, but Om barely registered it.
Dust swirled around him, each step feeling like he was wading through thick, oppressive memories. His eyes scanned the shattered remains of their living room, each broken piece a fragment of his childhood—a fallen picture frame, the charred remains of the kitchen where his mother used to cook.
There was no sign of her. The memories crashed into him: her smile, the way she soothed his nightmares, the warmth of her voice. "Please, Mom, don't leave me!" he choked, tears cutting paths down his cheeks as he sifted through the debris, hope flickering weakly in the dark storm of his fear.