Webb Pithon straightened his already impeccable tie as the broadcast light blinked on. Unlike Commander Owen's blood-stained appearance, Webb projected an aura of absolute control—as if the chaos unfolding around them was rely an inconvenience rather than catastrophe.
"Citizens of the Eastern Cardinal," Webb began, his voice carrying the practiced authority that had sold billions in Pithon Industries technology, "this is Webb Pithon. You know . You know my company. You know that when I make promises, they are kept."
He paused, allowing the weight of his reputation to settle over the audience.
"The situation Commander Owen has described is real. A thermobaric device with beast core amplification has been planted in the Nexus Arena. Its blast radius will destroy everything within five kiloters. Conventional disarmant is impossible—this is confird by the best technical minds in the sector, including my own son."
Webb leaned closer to the cara, his eyes projecting an intensity that seed to reach through screens across the Eastern Cardinal.
"I am currently inside the blast radius. My family is inside the blast radius. I would not be here if I did not believe in the solution we have prepared."
He straightened, adjusting his cuffs with practiced precision.
"The EDF has formulated an evacuation plan unlike any attempted before. It requires your imdiate cooperation and your trust. Proceed directly to the Nexus Arena. Do not attempt to flee the sector. The traffic congestion alone would ensure your demise. Our calculations show that those who follow instructions have a 97.8% survival probability. Those who attempt to flee have less than 12%."
Webb's expression softened marginally, a calculated shift in deanor.
"I have built my life's work on solving impossible problems. Today, the EDF and a specially assembled team will solve the most impossible one yet. Trust as you have trusted Pithon technology in your hos, your vehicles, your daily lives. Co to the Nexus Arena. Bring only what you can carry. Survival is the priority."
The broadcast ended with Webb's confident expression frozen on screens across the sector.
Within minutes, the skies above the Nexus filled with cruise cars—sleek, antigravity vehicles in various shapes and sizes. Many ignored the "pack light" directive, their vehicles loaded with hastily gathered possessions. Beast companions rode alongside their human partners—everything from miniature griffins perched on shoulders to dosticated spark hounds leaping from car to car with electric grace.
The EDF scrambled to coordinate the unprecedented air traffic. Officers in hover platforms directed landing patterns while others organized the growing crowd on the ground.
Commander Owen stood on the command center balcony, watching in stunned disbelief as the stadium rapidly filled with people. What had begun as a trickle had beco a flood—citizens pouring in from every direction, filling the seats, the field, the concourses.
"This is... impossible," he muttered, turning to Kelvin who was monitoring a tablet displaying real-ti population trics. "How did your father do this?"
Kelvin's eyes remained fixed on the screen. "The Pithon na carries weight. Father's spent decades cultivating an image of infallible competence. People believe him because he's never been publicly wrong."
Owen ran a hand through his gray hair, anxiety etched into every line of his face. "But what if we're wrong this ti? What's Eclipse waiting for?"
He checked his ti—eight minutes remained until detonation.
"We've got eight minutes, Pithon," Owen hissed, professionalism slipping as panic edged into his voice. "Eight minutes before I'm responsible for the largest civilian casualty event in Cardinal history. Where the hell is your friend?"
Kelvin swallowed hard, fingers flying across his tablet. "Noah will co through. He always does."
"And if he doesn't?" Owen demanded. "Have I just sanctioned the death of thousands? Convinced them to gather at ground zero instead of giving them a fighting chance to flee?"
Before Kelvin could respond, a ripple of movent passed through the crowd below. People were pointing, voices rising in a mixture of fear and awe.
Noah Eclipse walked calmly through a section of collapsed wall, erging from the debris as casually as if arriving late to class. The crowd parted before him instinctively, creating a path to the center of the field.
Despite the pandemonium around him—crying children, arguing adults, panicked beast companions—Noah moved with unhurried purpose. His expression betrayed nothing of the massive energy expenditure he'd just undertaken or the moral weight of his actions.
"Citizens of the Eastern Cardinal," Noah addressed the crowd, his voice carrying without apparent effort. "My na is Noah Eclipse. I'm going to get you all to safety."
The crowd fell silent, tens of thousands of eyes fixed on the young man standing alone in the center of the Nexus Arena.
"I possess the ability to transport all of you to a different dinsional plane," Noah continued matter-of-factly. "We will remain there until it's safe to return. The process is harmless but requires your cooperation."
Murmurs spread through the crowd—so skeptical, others hopeful, many simply confused.
"If you have loved ones with you, hold onto them physically," Noah instructed. "This will ensure no one is separated during transit. All beast companions should be held or restrained. The sa applies to personal belongings you've brought."
Amazingly, despite the absurdity of the request and the lack of any official confirmation beyond Webb Pithon's endorsent, people began following his instructions. Families clasped hands, parents lifted children, pet owners gathered their companions close.
Noah nodded, surveying the scene with clinical detachnt. "Okay. My turn."
'System interface reports 438,951 individuals within range,' Noah thought, keeping his expression neutral despite the staggering number. 'That's nearly a hundred thousand more than initial estimates. The drain on my void energy reserves will be catastrophic, even with the... replenishnt from earlier.'
He drew a slow breath, centering himself for what was to co.
'This is going to hurt. A lot.'
[Void Authority: Override Domain Strain Limiters?]
[WARNING: Physiological consequences may be severe]
'Approved,' Noah responded internally.
[Override Accepted]
[Domain Travel Protocol Initiated]
[Target Count: 438,951]
[Energy Requirent Calculation: OVERFLOW ERROR]
'Shit,' Noah thought, maintaining his composed exterior. 'That's a problem for future .'
"Domain Travel," Noah stated aloud, his voice impossibly calm given the circumstances.
Ripples of dark purple energy erupted from beneath his feet, spreading outward in concentric waves. Where the energy touched, reality itself seed to bend—light distorting around human forms as they were enveloped. One by one, then dozen by dozen, then hundred by hundred, people began to vanish from the physical plane.
The process was eerily beautiful—like watching stars blink out in reverse, each disappearance marked by a brief flare of void energy. Families vanished together, their clasped hands ensuring synchronized transport. Beast companions disappeared alongside their owners, the more intelligent ones watching the approaching energy with visible apprehension.
Within minutes, the once-crowded stadium fell silent. Where nearly half a million people had stood monts before, only empty space remained. The Eastern Cardinal sector, typically bustling with activity, beca a ghost town—devoid of human presence, filled only with the ambient sounds of abandoned technology and the occasional stray beast that had escaped its owner.
Then, with a subtle distortion of air, Noah reappeared precisely where he had vanished—alone.
He imdiately checked his internal display:
[Void Energy: 50/2200 (Regenerating 45/minute)]
'Better than expected,' Noah thought, noting the rapid regeneration rate. 'The entropy harvesting is paying dividends.'
His secret lay in the hundreds of corpses now stored in his void storage—a macabre battery pack of potential energy. He'd absorbed what he could earlier, but his energy pool couldn't contain the full harvest. By storing the bodies in his void space, he'd created a reservoir of entropy to draw upon when needed.
With a single powerful leap, Noah ascended to the stadium's highest point, landing gracefully atop the curved do. His enhanced agility made the hundred-ter vertical climb seem effortless.
From this vantage point, he surveyed the abandoned sector—the empty streets, the silent buildings, the occasional cruise car left hovering on autopilot. In the distance, the skyline of Eastern Cardinal glead in the late afternoon sun, unaware of how close it had co to partial destruction.
The beating of massive wings announced the arrival of his companions. Nyx and Storm landed on adjacent sections of the do, their massive forms causing the structure to creak beneath their weight. They'd also been transported and left Sophie and Lila behind in Noah's domain. Noah had returned with them though.
Would be a whole lot of explaining to do when civilians pointed either Nyx or Storm out. If things went according to plan, the headline the next day could read "ACADEMY STUDENT TRIES TO FEED CITIZENS TO HIS DRAGON"
He didn't want that. But he also brought the boys back for another reason.
Noah crossed his arms, feeling their judgntal gazes even without words. Their expressions seed to ask the obvious question: why was this maniac still in the blast radius with minutes remaining?
"A lot of people have mories here," Noah said quietly, addressing his companions though his gaze remained fixed on the horizon. "If the bomb goes off, it destroys more than just buildings. It erases hos, histories, the few stable things left in an already unstable world."
He turned to face Nyx and Storm, his expression hardening with resolve.
"With the Harbinger war already pushing humanity to the brink of hopelessness, no one needs this additional loss." Noah's voice grew firr, a decision crystallizing within him. "That's why I've decided—we are going to stop this bomb!"
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