Colorado Springs, Colorado - Cheyenne Mountain Complex
August 19, 2030 | 10:02 AM MDT
A week had passed since the transference. The government kept the event classified, waiting until they had gathered enough data to confirm what they feared most—they were no longer on Earth.
President Reynolds has just arrived at the meeting room. A man of resolve and composure, his fingers steepled together, his gaze unwavering as he surveyed the room.
"What have we learned so far?" His voice cut through the silence, sharp with authority. Every eye in the room turned toward him.
Dr. Chloe Vasquez, Chief Scientific Advisor of USSPACECOM, stood up and walked toward the center screen as she lowered the briefing folder she'd been reading from.
"We've confirmed it beyond a doubt," she said, flipping through a few more pages. "This isn't Earth."
She paused briefly before continuing. "None of the landmasses match Earth's continents. No sign of South America, Europe, Africa, Oceania, or Asia. The continents here are entirely different in shape, size, and layout. All except one."
She tapped her tablet. The central screen lit up with a high-resolution satellite image. "North America is still present. Everything from the Pacific to the Atlantic, the Rockies, the plains—it's all intact. Even parts of Canada and Mexico's geography remain. But there's no trace of any other country or settlement on the continent. Just us."
Everyone in the room listened intently, the image of the new world casting a faint glow across their faces.
They had waited a week—praying, hoping, clinging to the thought that maybe, just maybe, someone else had made it too. That some other country on Earth besides them would still be with them.
But… it was just them.
Alone on a continent that still looked like home, but no longer is.
Chairs creaked as some shifted uncomfortably. Others stared blankly at the screen, as if the longer they looked, the more familiar it might become.
Vasquez exhaled. "The oceans, polar ice caps, even familiar weather systems—all suggest this planet runs on similar natural principles. But everything else? It's unknown."
She looked at the images on screen as if studying them herself. "This is another world. Nearly identical to Earth in many ways, but not a copy."
The screen shifted. Multiple data streams flowed across the display. Each chart and graph brought more clarity to a grim reality.
She gestured to the screen and continued, "The atmosphere is breathable—remarkably so. Oxygen and nitrogen levels are near-identical to Earth's, but slightly more stable in composition. Trace gases are minimal, and overall air purity is higher than anything we've recorded back home. It's cleaner, lighter. Easier to breathe. But we've also detected unfamiliar compounds—argon isotopes and molecular traces we've never cataloged. Most appear inert… but some might not be. We're still running long-term biological exposure tests."
The screen shifted again.
"Magnetosphere's present. Protects the surface from solar radiation. The day-night cycle here is slightly shorter—about five minutes quicker than Earth's. Seasons exist, though axial tilt is a few degrees shallower."
She put her tablet down. "In short, this planet isn't home. And we have no idea how deep the differences go."
Reynolds paused, his expression hardening. "Alright." He swallowed hard. "Now, what do we know about the civilizations out there?"
Vasquez quietly returned to her seat. Marcus Hall, Director of Analysis at the Defense Intelligence Agency, stood and walked toward the center display. As he tapped his tablet, the screen behind him came to life.
"We've compiled forty-eight hours of continuous surveillance," Hall began, voice even. "Initially, we believed we were alone here, at least as far as modern civilization goes."
He brought up a series of high-resolution images, the continents unfamiliar but marked with activity zones.
"But that assumption didn't hold for long."
He paused, his eyes narrowing as the feed shifted to a series of images. "There are at least three other civilizations in this world that stand out. Their infrastructure output places them far above anything else we've seen so far, including the civilizations we discovered across the Pacific."
He zoomed into one of the cities.
He took a breath, gesturing toward the screen. "This first one," he began, "located far east. They operate with technology reminiscent of Earth's early 20th century. Their infrastructure follows the same pattern. Industrial-age factories, towering smokestacks, steel-framed buildings… Railways are the backbone of their transportation—steam locomotives connecting cities and production hubs. Just like ours did, once."
The screen shifted.
"Their military units resemble designs from World War I down to the finest detail." He hesitated, glancing at everyone in the room before continuing. "No visible aircraft yet, but our imaging suggests they have the industrial capacity to develop them. Their entire civilization is… a mirror of our history." He exhaled. "We've designated this civilization Steamgate—a reference to their reliance on steam power and the industrial expansion that defines their society."
Reynolds's frown deepened in unease, settling deep into his bones. "They've reached the same level we did a century ago? The same designs, the same patterns, the same… everything?"
Hall nodded. "From what we can tell, yes. Their development path is eerily similar."
Reynolds leaned back as he rubbed his mouth, processing what he had just heard.
Hall flipped to the next set of images, each one unfolding a new layer of the unsettling reality they faced.
"The second civilization appears to be in a mid-20th-century stage," He said. "Located just across the Atlantic Ocean, in the northern hemisphere. Their military technology mirrors Earth's World War II era with also surprising accuracy."
The screen shifted to another set of images.
"The architecture resembles Europe," He noted. "Narrow streets, tightly packed stone and brick buildings, steep gabled roofs. There are town squares, clock towers, and cathedrals."
He continued. "Their logistics network is advanced. Rail-based transport, disciplined supply routes, and a heavy focus on fortification. Mechanized warfare appears to be their strength—armor columns, supply convoys, even airfields. Everything is much more refined than Steamgate's."
"We've designated them Bulwark—based on their heavy use of defensive fortifications, disciplined ground operations, and hardened infrastructure," he said.
He paused, clearing his throat. Then shifted to one final image.
"And we believe… they're currently engaged in a large-scale regional war."
Reynolds sat up, his eyes narrowing as he leaned in. "With who?" He studied the image closely, tracing the trails of smoke rising from burning settlements.
Hall zoomed in on another image, revealing something even he didn't expect earlier when he studied it. "A less advanced civilization," he noted, "located just south of Bulwark. They're currently in the early gunpowder stage—muskets and cannons. The layout and construction resemble East Asian, featuring walled cities and pagoda-style towers. They're fighting a war against a modernized and mechanized force."
Reynolds' expression hardened. "That means Bulwark's war machines aren't just theoretical. They're battle-tested."
Hall nodded. "And that's what makes them dangerous. If they weren't in active conflict, their development might have remained slow and predictable. But under pressure? They'll adapt. Their industrial capacity, logistics network, mechanized forces—all of it is being refined in real combat." He paused, trying to deny the words he was about to say. "It's only a matter of time before they discover nuclear weapons. Or… they may even have one already under development."
A chill ran through the room as the implications settled in. Nuclear weapons—the one thing that had nearly brought humanity to its knees in the world they once knew—could become a reality in the new world, too.
Reynolds's eyes were still locked on the image of a battle-scarred town. "How do we deal with that?"
"They're methodical," Hall answered. "And they might adapt faster than we think. They may not realize how much they mirror our own history, but evolution under pressure can be fast." He continued. "Wartime desperation creates innovation."
General Carter pressed his hands flat against the table. "That gives us a narrow window to maintain technological advantage. If we wait too long, they could close the gap."
Reynolds's frown deepened. "Have they noticed us? Do they know we're here?"
Hall shook his head. "As of now, there are no confirmed detections. Our satellite remains outside their detection threshold, and we've kept air and naval operations outside their operational zones."
Reynolds looked at the screen, taking in the shifting balance of power. "And the nation they're fighting? Do they stand a chance?"
Hall exhaled. "That depends on what you consider a chance. Against tanks and planes, their muskets and cannons aren't enough. If it were just that, this war would already be over. But they have something else…"
He flipped to another image, zooming in on a shadow that stretched over a burning fortress. "We've dealt with hostile creatures before—the ones that hit our cities since the event. But these…" He paused, his mind tied in disbelief. "These are different. Bigger. Some even rival the size of our largest military cargo aircraft."
Carter stared at the image. "That complicates things. If they can effectively operate in combat roles at this size, this isn't just a medieval army fighting against tanks—this is a force with its own version of air power."
Hall nodded. "And that's why they stand out. Every other civilization we've observed follows a technological progression we understand. But this? This is something different. A force that has skipped conventional flight entirely and gone straight to an organic alternative. A civilization built around airborne warfare without ever developing the machines we rely on." He paused, glancing at every person in the room. "We thought we understood their capabilities, but this changes everything."
Reynolds's gaze lingered on the enormous figures silhouetted against the smoke-filled sky. "What do we call them?"
Holloway's expression was unreadable. "Skyreach. A reference to their medieval fortifications, and their command of the skies."
Reynolds leaned back, his mind racing. If these creatures were as formidable as they appeared, Skyreach wasn't just a struggling kingdom—it was a wildcard. One they couldn't afford to overlook.
"If they can be used as war assets," he said, "we need to figure out their limits—and fast."
He closed his eyes for a moment, the weight of Hall's reports settling on him. He exhaled slowly before opening his eyes again. "What about these winged creatures—what did we learn from them?"
Advisor Collins stood up, the screen shifted to reveal an image of a massive reptilian corpse. His voice was calm but carried the weight of urgency. "This is one of several winged creatures recovered from multiple engagement zones across the country."
He turned from the screen to face the room more fully. "Preliminary biological analysis confirms these creatures are not of any known species. Their anatomy defies current classification—skeletal, muscular, even cellular structures fall outside our scientific frameworks."
Collins shifted to another image. "These creatures possess internal mechanisms that allow for controlled ignition. We're talking about a biological system capable of producing and projecting fire. Our analysts are comparing it to natural thermogenic and combustion-based processes, but nothing aligns exactly."
"You're saying this thing breaks evolutionary logic?" Reynolds asked.
Collins gave a slow nod. "Yes, Mr. President. If we weren't staring at their corpses and structural scans, this would be considered pure fantasy. But it's real. And it's operating beyond our current understanding of biology."
Collins tapped again. The image zoomed out, revealing the beast's heavily damaged torso, where most of the armor-like hide remained largely intact despite the burn marks and embedded shrapnel.
"They're not just biologically unprecedented—they're tactically resilient," Collins said. "Multiple engagements show a consistent pattern: conventional firepower barely slows them down. Our jets and helos hit this particular specimen with direct strikes from JATMs, JAGMs, and rockets."
He continued. "What we're dealing with here is a hide, unlike anything we've ever encountered. Based on early materials analysis, the outer layer is made of a dense keratin-like compound layered with what appears to be biologically grown silica and embedded, flexible, mineralized fibers. It's not metal, but it behaves like composite armor."
He brought up a cross-sectional scan. "This structure absorbs and redistributes kinetic force. It's like the entire body is built with a shock-dispersal network. High-caliber rounds either shatter on impact or ricochet. Some of our operators described it as watching bullets 'bounce' off."
Reynolds narrowed his eyes. "So what does take them down?"
Collins nodded, then brought up footage from a drone. It showed a battle somewhere outside Kansas City.
"Here's the catch," Collins said. "They have one vulnerability—and it's behavioral. The fire they project comes from a specialized cavity located near the base of the throat. We believe it's a pressurized ignition system powered by volatile biological compounds. The process begins internally and is expelled through the mouth, likely using a controlled chemical mixture ignited via electrically stimulated arcs or thermogenic reactions."
He tapped to freeze-frame just as the creature opened its jaws to unleash a torrent of flame.
"That's the window. One missile entered the open mouth during ignition." He advanced the frame. The impact erupted in a blinding flash. The creature exploded mid-air.
"Every successful takedown we've had involved a missile or guided munition entering the oral cavity during fire projection. The internal detonation ignites the fuel system from within, resulting in catastrophic failure."
Reynolds rubbed a hand along his jaw. "So it's a precise shot, during a precise moment."
"Yes," Collins confirmed. "And it only works when they attack. Which means our best chance to kill them… is when they're trying to kill us."
General Carter's voice was low. "That's not an easy shot. Not for ground-based defenses, not even for fast movers."
Collins didn't disagree. "No, sir. It's like threading a needle at Mach speeds. But it's all we have—for now. Our best minds are already working on adapting weapons to exploit its hide."
He paused. "But until then, these creatures can't be treated like beasts. They're airborne siege engines."
Vice President Michael Colloway, who had been silent throughout the weeks, finally spoke up, his hand rubbing his temple. "If these creatures are as dangerous as we think, how likely is it that Bulwark is already working on countermeasures?"
Director Hall responded. "It's a possibility. Their technological development is progressing rapidly, and with the winged creatures involved, we can't rule out that they might have already developed countermeasures. We're closely tracking their military movements."
Reynolds is trying to process everything he has heard so far. Despite the unbelievable reports throughout the weeks, he has no choice but to accept the reality of America's situation. He put his arms on the tabletop. "Alright then, how about domestic reports?" He asked.
Secretary Bellamy steadied himself. "Search-and-rescue operations are still ongoing, but progress has been slow. The scale of the devastation continues to exceed our expectations. In some regions, we've moved into stabilization and recovery phases, but many areas are still too dangerous or inaccessible for full SAR efforts. Casualty projections are being continuously updated, and while we've made progress, we've crossed catastrophic thresholds in multiple regions."
He paused, looking over the latest reports on his tablet. "We're still mobilizing resources, and teams are working relentlessly. But the situation remains critical, every step forward feels like a battle."
He continued. "Radiation's not the issue—it's the scale of the destruction and the lack of support. We lost critical infrastructure in the East and several cities, and now, without access to external resources or trade, we're isolated." He exhaled. "Our supply chains are gone, and we're relying entirely on what remains within our borders. The focus is survival right now—keeping what little is left functional. But we're facing an uncertain future, and resources are quickly dwindling."
Reynolds exhaled, tapping a finger against the table. "We need to stay ahead of this. What's our approach to diplomacy?"
William Harrington, Secretary of State, adjusted his tie, his voice even. "No one's noticed us yet—at least that we know of. That buys us time, we can't waste it by barging in unprepared—we need to understand them first. If we misstep, we risk being seen as invaders or something worse."
Reynolds nodded. "And the nearest civilization? What's their standing?"
Director Hall hesitated. "We have limited intel. They occupy land roughly the size of the Korean peninsula. As for their relationships with neighboring powers, uncertain. No obvious alliances, no clear hostilities, but we don't have enough data to rule anything out."
Reynolds nodded. "Understood." He then glanced down at the table. "What about the economy?"
Every eye in the room turned toward the Secretary of the Treasury.
James Thornton swallowed hard, adjusted his glasses, and set down his folder. "We're in uncharted territory, Mr. President," Thornton began. "The American economy is unraveling—quietly, steadily, and dangerously."
He tapped his tablet, and the screen changed to a graph.
"Our economy relies on a constant flow of imports, exports, digital transactions, and global debt structures. All of that vanished after the event."
He brought up another display. "All overseas trade routes are dead. No incoming ships. No external suppliers. Ports are frozen, and the entire logistics sector is idling."
He turned back toward Reynolds. "We're seeing a cascading collapse in specific sectors: pharmaceuticals, electronics, and precision components. The moment international parts stopped arriving, manufacturing lines began shutting down. We've already lost several high-tech production sectors entirely."
Reynolds rubbed his temple. "What about the dollar?"
Thornton inhaled. "The dollar is still circulating, but its function as a global reserve currency is gone. No more forex markets. No IMF. No foreign investment. And without international validation, our digital economy has started to cannibalize itself."
He shifted to another image, showing financial infrastructure damage with red zones marking lost data centers and collapsed payment networks.
"Most major banking networks are intact in the Midwest and West Coast, but they're functionally operating as isolated systems. Digital transactions are slowing. Confidence in the dollar is falling. The public doesn't know we're no longer on Earth, but they know something's deeply wrong."
Vice President Colloway spoke up from his end. "They think it's Earth-based. Cyberwarfare, infrastructure attacks, economic sabotage…"
Thornton nodded. "We're fueling that narrative for now, but it's not sustainable. Regional banks are running low on cash. ATMs have gone offline in multiple states. People are hoarding food, fuel, and even paper currency."
Secretary Bellamy added, "We're seeing spikes in civil unrest in cities where food distribution slowed. Stolen trucks, looted warehouses, and black markets forming on the outskirts."
Thornton continued. "The Federal Reserve has moved into emergency liquidity mode. Ration cards are being tested in Colorado, Montana, and Tennessee. We're weeks away from implementing a national emergency currency program backed by reserves of food, water, and fuel."
Reynolds's voice dropped. "What about employment?"
"Unemployment is exploding," Thornton said. "The private sector is frozen. Tens of millions are suddenly jobless. We're launching a modern WPA—a Federal Emergency Workforce—to reassign people to critical infrastructure, agriculture, logistics, and rebuilding efforts. If we don't, we risk losing social cohesion entirely."
Reynolds exhaled slowly. "Is there any part of the economy holding together?"
Thornton hesitated. "Yes. Food production is still viable. Midwest farms, California valleys, inland logistics hubs—all still functional. Our refineries and power grids remain largely intact. The backbone of domestic output is here—we just need to repurpose it into a self-sufficient war-economy model. But it won't look anything like the economy we had."
Reynolds looked across the table. "Can we make it work?"
Thornton met his eyes. "Yes, Mr. President. But not without sacrifice. The American people are going to feel it. We're going to become a closed economy, one that needs discipline, direction, and unity. And eventually... diplomacy."
Reynolds leaned back in his seat. "Then let's get ahead of it. If we're going to survive here, we need to give the people a reason to believe we can."
He turned toward Bellamy and Harrington. "Start preparing regional broadcast scripts. We keep the event still classified." He stood up, buttoning his jacket. "Until then, I want food rationing, infrastructure mobilization, and emergency labor programs implemented before fear takes root."
General Carter shifted in his seat and leaned forward. "Mr. President, if I may."
Reynolds paused, turned slightly, and gave a short nod. "Go ahead."
Carter planted both hands on the table. "Sir, with all due respect, we're approaching the edge of what our standard forces can handle. These creatures… they fall outside conventional warfare. We need something different."
Advisor Collins looked up. "Different how?"
Carter's tone was steady. "Project RAVEN." He scanned the room. "A joint operations initiative. It was shelved back in '27."
Several officials exchanged glances.
Director Holloway raised an eyebrow. "That black-budget prototype? RAVEN was never greenlit."
Carter nodded once. "No, but it was close. It had an outline, command structure, legal groundwork, and candidate shortlists across DEVGRU, Delta, 75th, Green Berets, MARSOC. We vetted them for multi-domain threat adaptability, asymmetric warfare, and high-risk infiltration."
Secretary Harrington set his notepad down. "That's a politically risky move. Bringing back a program like that suggests we're preparing for covert engagement—offensively."
Carter didn't blink. "We already are. We just haven't put it in writing."
Tom Williams, Director of the National Security Agency, raised his hand. "From a signals intel perspective, he's right. The world we're in is full of unknowns. Hostile biology, foreign civilizations, and competing empires."
Secretary Mitchell finally spoke. "We could reactivate it under Section 1208 authorities for irregular warfare, then expand it using Title 10 under Joint Tasking Authority. The rest folds into operational cover under the Defense Intelligence framework."
Director Sanchez folded her arms. "If we do this, it stays off-book. Highly classified. That team answers only to this room."
Reynolds let the silence settle for a moment, tapping the table lightly with one finger. "Have we selected operatives already?"
Carter nodded. "Not yet—but the candidate pool exists. We just need the green light to finalize the selections."
Reynolds looked around the table. No objections came.
He let out a slow breath, fingers brushing his tie into place. "Alright, then," he said quietly. "Let's bring it back."