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San Francisco isn't too far from Los Angeles, so when the nuclear bomb went off, people in L.A. felt a slight tremor. Roy, caught up in a lively party with twelve women, barely noticed, chalking it up to a minor earthquake. California's no stranger to quakes—small ones hit every year, with a big one every decade or so. He didn't think much of it.
Then his phone rang. Roy signaled Mary to slow down—her "driving" was getting a bit too wild, and he didn't want the caller to hear anything awkward. Mary, ever obedient, eased off the nitro and coasted to a gentler pace.
"Hello, this is Roy Black."
"Mr. Black, it's Gerald Olin. We've got a major problem!" Gerald rarely sounded this alarmed.
"What happened?"
"Just moments ago, a nuclear bomb detonated in downtown San Francisco!"
"What?!"
This was no small matter. The only country to ever experience a nuclear attack was Japan, and that was decades ago. For it to happen on American soil, in a major city like San Francisco? The fallout would dwarf the Pearl Harbor attack several times over.
"How did this happen? Who launched the nuke?" Roy asked.
America's nuclear launch process is airtight. It requires confirmation from the President and the Pentagon, dual identity verification, and both the President and the Secretary of Defense using their keys to unlock the launch briefcase. Then, a password and presidential authentication card are needed to press the button. The whole process takes hours.
So Roy was baffled about who could've pulled it off.
Gerald's voice was grim. "We've confirmed it was launched from a Pacific Fleet nuclear submarine, but we're still investigating who gave the order. Roy, the bigger issue is that Ms. Elise is missing!"
Roy's heart sank. He sat up so fast he nearly knocked Mary off balance. "Elise? Wasn't she at FEA headquarters in New York?"
He'd heard from Clary that Elise had been there recently, which made this news all the more shocking.
Gerald sighed. "According to headquarters, Elise bypassed the FEA and contacted the White House directly to pursue Genevieve Aristide. I only just found out myself."
Roy went silent for a moment before responding. "I'm heading to San Francisco now."
"Mr. Black, why don't you meet up with us first? The FEA, National Guard, and FBI are all converging on San Francisco."
"Got it."
Roy hung up, grabbed Mary's arm, and floored it—metaphorically. In seconds, Mary was out cold, rolling her eyes back.
"Jennifer, I'm going to San Francisco. Keep an eye on everyone. I'm worried something else might happen."
Jennifer lazily opened her eyes, still basking in the afterglow of her own "battle." "What's the big deal?"
"San Francisco just got hit by a nuke."
That woke up several of the women who hadn't dozed off yet. "A nuke?!" they gasped in unison.
Roy nodded. "I'm worried this is just the start, so stay sharp."
Madison spoke up. "There's a safe room under this villa. It's stocked with enough food and water for ten people for a year. If anything goes down, we can hide there."
Roy looked at her, surprised. He'd lived in the villa for ages and had no idea about a safe room. Rich people, always paranoid about doomsday, often built these bunkers. "Alright, listen to Jennifer and stay put until I'm back. Claria!"
Roy was already dressed, summoning Claria, his motorcycle, to head out.
He rode to the Dolphin Hotel, where several transport planes were waiting, along with nearly every FEAR operative. Los Angeles was under lockdown—being so close to San Francisco, the city government wasn't taking chances and had banned residents from going out.
"Mr. Black, you ready?" Gerald asked.
Roy nodded and patted Claria. "Can I bring my bike?"
"No problem. Get on the transport!"
All of America's attention was on San Francisco. This was the worst domestic incident since Pearl Harbor, far outstripping even next year's 9/11. That was just two buildings—this was an entire city. The White House was probably losing it; no administration wants this kind of catastrophe on their watch.
Roy and Gerald arrived on the outskirts of San Francisco around 1 a.m. via transport plane.
"We can't go further," Gerald said. "The city center's still radioactive. We're heading to the National Guard's camp."
The Guard had gotten there first and was setting up a rescue base. Realistically, with a nuke, there were probably few survivors downtown, but they had to put on a show.
Gerald introduced Roy to the National Guard commander. "What's the situation?"
"What do you think? The Geiger counters are off the charts in the city center. We're stuck here watching until radiation suits arrive."
America hadn't faced a crisis like this in ages, and preparedness had lapsed. Most of the Guard was just going through the motions—don't expect miracles from them.
Roy pulled Gerald aside. "Mr. Olin, I'm going into the city."
Gerald's eyes widened. "Are you sure?"
"I need to check on Elise."
Roy and Elise had shared intimate moments; he couldn't just abandon her. Plus, with his current constitution, he was pretty sure he could handle the radiation.
Gerald, unaware of Roy's resilience, tried to dissuade him. "Mr. Black, why not wait for the pros? We can borrow a radiation suit. I'll pull strings if needed."
Roy shook his head. "I've got a feeling Elise is still alive. I need to find her now."
Gerald knew he couldn't change Roy's mind. "Alright, what do you need?"
Roy needed a map of downtown San Francisco and any info on Elise's movements. After reporting to headquarters, Gerald handed Roy a military-grade terminal.
"This has everything you need, including satellite access to monitor San Francisco in real time."
Roy nodded, eyeing the brick-like device. "Any requests from headquarters?"
"They want to know how the nuke was launched. Can you look into it?"
"If it's on the way, I'll check," Roy said, not committing. His priority was Elise.
Gerald didn't press. "Good luck, Mr. Black."
Roy climbed onto Claria. "Mr. Olin, I'm always lucky. You should wish Elise luck instead."
"Luck for everyone—except the mastermind behind this," Gerald quipped.
Roy smirked and roared off. The camp watched in shock as he rode into downtown San Francisco without any protective gear.
The city was apocalyptic. Outer buildings were somewhat intact, but closer to the blast, structures were obliterated by the shockwave. American homes, often wood, didn't stand a chance—tornadoes could level them, let alone a nuke.
Thankfully, Claria, a nimble blue Harley-Davidson Buell Firebolt, weaved through the shattered streets with ease. Bumblebee wouldn't have made it.
Luckily, the bomb had detonated far enough from the Armacham Building that Roy could still see half of it standing strong. If it had melted, looking for Elise would've been pointless—she'd be in heaven by now.
But as he neared the building, something felt off.
"Roy, I'm detecting intense electromagnetic waves!" Claria warned.
"Can you pinpoint the source?"
"It's coming from the top of the target building!"
"What?"
Roy looked up at the Armacham Building and caught a glimpse of a dark figure moving at the top. From over ten kilometers away, even his enhanced vision couldn't make out if it was human—or something else.
Suddenly, he was pulled into a hallucination.
In this vision, Roy stood alone in San Francisco's ruins, bathed in an orange-red twilight glow. The Armacham Building stood intact, an 80-story monolith with its top engulfed in blazing orange flames. Sparks of the same hue drifted from the city, converging at the building's peak. The twilight tint came from the flames.
Amid the fire, Roy saw a little girl in a red dress, her crimson eyes fixed on him with keen interest.
"Who are you?" Roy asked.
He figured she was the one pulling him into this vision, but since she hadn't attacked, he held back.
The girl smiled, turned, and walked into the flames. A faint voice drifted back: "Come find me."
Roy was baffled. "Can you at least explain what's going on?"
He started to chase her, but a blinding white light forced him to shut his eyes.
When he opened them, he was on the ground, hearing laser gunfire. Claria, in her robot form, was battling a horde of charred, humanoid monsters.
"Thank God, Roy, you're awake!" Claria exclaimed.
"What just happened?"
Roy scrambled up, drawing his gun to help Claria. The creatures—corpses seemingly desiccated by the nuke's heat—were numerous, and laser fire barely slowed them. Even blowing off heads or limbs didn't stop them from advancing. The only way was to disable their legs and arms, leaving them writhing on the ground.
"A massive electromagnetic pulse erupted from the Armacham Building, and you passed out, falling off the bike. I stopped to wake you, but these monsters showed up."
Roy pieced it together, but his confusion grew. His willpower stat was 99, just shy of 100. Yet something had dragged him into a hallucination from over ten kilometers away. Even Elizabeth in her human form couldn't do that—maybe only Belial's true form could.
He suspected the red-dressed girl's mental stats were at the 200 cap, maybe even beyond.
The charred corpses kept coming, endless. "Claria, no point wasting energy here. Let's break through."
"Got it!"
Claria transformed back into a motorcycle, and Roy hopped on. He pulled out the Leviathan Axe, morphing it into a spinning blade and hurling it. It sliced through the corpses' legs like a scythe through grass, clearing a path.
Closer to the Armacham Building, the monsters grew denser, some with glowing orange-red patterns, far stronger than the others. The roads were in worse shape, many completely broken.
Eventually, Roy ditched the bike and ran on foot—it was faster. By dawn, he reached the base of the Armacham Building.
"Here we are."
The 80-story skyscraper was a structural hazard, half-collapsed, but Roy had no choice but to climb. "Claria, stay here. I'm going up alone."
"Roy, are you sure? If that happens again…"
She had a point. Roy equipped a wireless earpiece and linked it to Claria's network. "We'll check in regularly. If I don't respond, come find me."
"Roger that!"
Roy glanced at the building's top, then steeled himself and headed for the stairs.