(January 25, 2025)

  The Atlanta sky was no longer blue; it was a sickening mixture of deathly purple and black smoke rising from half-burnt skyscrapers. Ankae stood atop a Humvee, staring at a paper map. The GPS system had been dead for a long time. Around him, the scene was pure chaos: thousands of refugees clung to military vehicles while haggard UN soldiers struggled to establish a final perimeter.

  Communications Officer: "Advisor, UN Headquarters in New York has issued an order via shortwave radio. We are to retreat to the rear. Atlanta... is falling. There are just too many of them."

  Ankae: "What about the helicopters?"

  Communications Officer: "The electromagnetic pulses from the 'Void' field in the Appalachian region are acting like localized EMPs. The Black Hawks can't take off. Our only option is the Humvee convoy."

  Ankae: "I see. But it’s a long way to New York from here."

  The massive convoy began to roll down the highway. Humvees armed with heavy machine guns led the way, with trucks carrying civilians and the wounded sandwiched in the middle. Inside one Humvee, Ankae sat with a few young soldiers. Silence hung heavy, broken only by the roar of the engines.

  Young Soldier: "Advisor, why New York? Isn't that their biggest target?"

  Ankae: "New York houses the UN Headquarters. It’s the only place left with an experimental magnetic defense system. If that falls, humanity officially has no government left."

  Suddenly, the ground shook. From the forests lining the highway, dark shapes lunged out. Not just a few—hundreds of Crawlers.

  Ankae: "All units, attention! Circle formation! Protect the civilian trucks! Don't let them get close!"

  The M2 Browning machine guns barked incessantly. Crawlers were ripped to shreds, yet they kept coming like frenzied predators. In the heat of the battle, a Void Gate tore open in the middle of the convoy. An Endbringer stepped out, hurling its massive hammer and crushing the middle vehicles. The convoy ground to a halt in a chaotic wreck.

  Ankae: "What is that thing? Everyone, fall back! It’s too heavily armored—we don't have the firepower to take it down!"

  The UN soldiers fought bravely, but despair was etched on their faces. They used grenades and anti-tank weapons against the Endbringer. Ankae himself fired his rifle through the car window. He watched as young soldiers were dragged from their vehicles, their screams swallowed by the roar of the Void.

  Amidst the carnage, Ankae’s radio picked up a strange signal—not from New York, but an old military channel.

  Radio (Brian’s voice - crackling): "...This is Soldier Brian of the UN Rescue Force... we are to the North... is anyone there?..."

  Ankae froze. He recognized that unit's call sign.

  Ankae: "Brian? This is Advisor Ankae. We are evacuating Atlanta heading North. What is your position?"

  Brian (Radio): "We’re pinned down at a toll booth 50 miles from you. The monsters are surrounding us... we have civilians and children here..."

  Ankae looked back at his shattered forces. New York was still far, and his comrades were dying.

  Ankae: "Hold your position, Brian! We’re coming. Don't you dare die before I get to see that UN helmet of yours!"

  Ankae ordered the convoy to divert. Instead of heading straight for the safety of New York, they chose to tear through the hot zone to save Brian’s group.

  Ankae: "The government might abandon us, but UN soldiers don't abandon each other. If the world is ending, at least we’ll die together as a real army."

  The Humvees accelerated, plunging into the thick purple mist toward the sound of distant gunfire.

  The gunfire was relentless. Brian’s group (who had been rescued by an Apache only for it to be grounded by magnetic interference) took cover behind truck wreckage at the toll booth. Crawlers were scaling the metal barriers. Just then, high-intensity headlights pierced the purple haze. Ankae’s Humvee convoy roared in like steel beasts.

  Ankae: "All UN personnel, 180-degree suppression fire! Get those people off the ground and into the trucks now!"

  Brian scooped up his son, grabbing his wife’s hand as they sprinted toward the lead vehicle. Ankae reached out, grabbed Brian’s hand, and hauled him onto the floor of the vehicle. Their eyes met for a split second—one an advisor in tattered formal wear, the other a veteran with a helmet stained with monster blood.

  Ankae: "Brian? You’ve gotten old."

  Brian: "At least I’m still alive to hear you nag."

  The tires screeched as the convoy left the howling monsters behind. The real journey began.

  Days 1-2: The Soldiers' Compact

  The convoy moved along the I-85. The roads were surprisingly clear, as the US military had swept them during their earlier retreat. At night, they stopped at a deserted rest area. Brian sharpened his combat knife while Ankae studied paper maps by flashlight. Ankae admitted the government was disintegrating. Brian looked at his sleeping family and asked: "If the UN falls, what are we fighting for?"

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  Ankae remained silent for a long time before replying: "For that child. So that no more children have to be buried under the rubble."

  Day 4: Acid Rain in Virginia

  The rain began to fall, but the drops were a pale purple. Smoke from Hyoponic spores rose from the undergrowth. Tires began to fray and windshields turned opaque from corrosion. The convoy had to drive blind through toxic fog. Rossy and Adam were forced to stand on the exterior running boards in gas masks, using signal lights to guide the drivers behind them. They fired into the dark shapes creeping along the power lines as they moved.

  Day 6: The Dead Man’s Curve in Pennsylvania

  An Endbringer appeared, blocking a vital bridge. It didn't chase them; it waited. It threw its colossal hammer, flipping a logistics truck. Brian decided to leap from the vehicle, using a scavenged sniper rifle to shoot the monster in the eye to distract it, allowing Ankae to lead the convoy through a narrow gap on the bridge. They escaped, but the terrifying realization that an Endbringer possessed "tactical intelligence" made them realize conventional weapons were becoming useless.

  New York City: The Death of an Era

  The remaining seven Humvees, scarred by claws and rust, entered the Lincoln Tunnel. At the end of the tunnel lay a massive battlefront. Abrams tanks, steel barricades, and thousands of soldiers stood in formation.

  The tunnel exit opened. Colonel Marcus stood there, sunglasses still on, but his face etched with deep lines from sleep deprivation. Ankae stepped out of the vehicle, staggering. Marcus moved forward to steady his friend.

  Marcus: "You’re three hours late for your report, Ankae."

  Ankae: "The roads were a bit rough. I brought you a 'gift'."

  While Brian and Marcus’s men held the line at the barricades around the UN building, tens of thousands of Crawlers and Mexus swarmed across the bridges like a black tide. Machine guns roared without pause; mounds of monster carcasses piled high. Marcus and Brian fought back, retreating into the Grand Hall of the headquarters. They successfully repelled the first wave, but everyone knew: this was only the beginning.

  In contrast to the sacrifice outside, the interior was a scene of chaos. Marcus and Ankae entered, clothes covered in blood and ash, contrasting sharply with the pristine suits of the delegates.

  Delegate A: (Slamming the table) "London is lost! Paris has fallen! Why is the UN still issuing useless press releases?"

  Delegate B: "The Peacekeeping Force is a joke! They carry guns but are too afraid to pull the trigger because of 'humanitarian regulations'! You are killing our nations with this bureaucracy!"

  Ankae: "Gentlemen, soldiers are dying out there just to buy you time to sit here and argue. Seattle is gone. Atlanta has been wiped out. We don't have time for a press conference!"

  A delegate representing a major military power—the one with the coldest eyes—stood up. The room went silent.

  Delegate C: "The UN is dead. It was built for a world at peace, not for this hell. If we want to survive, we need a war machine without borders, without ethics, and without mercy."

  He turned on a large screen, displaying a world map carved into "Defense Sectors."

  Delegate C: "I propose the immediate dissolution of the United Nations. It shall be replaced by the GDA (Global Defense Army). The GDA will hold absolute power: global resource requisition, mandatory conscription, and the authority to glass any city infected by the Void to protect the rest. We need cold blood to trade for survival."

  The delegates looked at each other. A long silence followed... then, one by one, hands were raised. It was a death-sentence vote.

  Marcus looked at Ankae; both were stunned. They realized they had fought to protect an organization, only for that organization to "execute" itself to become a totalitarian military empire.

  An announcement echoed through the building’s speakers:

  "As of 00:00 hours today, the United Nations is officially dissolved. All military and political authority is transferred to the GDA Supreme Command. Colonel Marcus, you are appointed Commander of Sector 1 (North America). Good luck to humanity."

  Brian stood at the doorway of the conference room, hearing the announcement. He looked at the UN blue helmet in his hand, then dropped it into a puddle of blood at his feet. He knew that from this day forward, the concept of "Peace" would never exist again.