By morning, the city had turned into a war museum.Charred vehicles lined the boulevard. Drones hovered above cordoned-off streets. Every block had a checkpoint, every face wore the same look—fear with a hangover.
The news called it "The San Francisco Incident."Cole called it "a disaster with good lighting."
Inside the temporary command tent at Fort Mason, a half dozen officers argued over a map.Lines of red tape crossed the waterfront like spiderwebs. The Gate, now marked simply as ANOMALY ZERO-ONE, rotated quietly on the central screen.
General Whitaker's voice cut through the noise. "—and until further notice, the city's airspace is restricted to military and authorized personnel only. Civilian evacuation complete. No news drones within five miles."Someone else muttered, "Tell that to the six that tried to livestream from the bay last night."
Cole stood off to one side, helmet under his arm, waiting for orders.He'd been awake for thirty hours. The coffee machine had died somewhere around hour eighteen. The MPs guarding it had formed a grief circle.
"Major Cole," Whitaker said, pointing. "You had direct contact with the enemy. What's your assessment?"Cole took a breath. "Professionally, sir? They were disciplined, coordinated, and suicidal. Their weapons mix melee and something energy-based—similar to directed plasma, but unexplainable. Casualties indicate magic—" He paused, the word felt strange coming out. "—or something like it."
Whitaker's eyebrows barely moved. "You're saying spells.""I'm saying advanced field energy phenomena performed by shouting men in cloaks," Cole replied evenly."So, spells.""Yes, sir."
A ripple of low laughter went around the room. It felt good, in a grim way.
Reyes slid a data tablet onto the table. "We've run spectroscopy on recovered fragments from the Gate. It's made of nothing found on Earth. No isotopic matches. Whatever that arch is, it's self-sustaining. The field around it even deflects radio.""Translation?" Whitaker said."It's not turning off. Not unless we blow it up—and that might take the city with it."
Silence settled. Even the background chatter of keyboards died.
Whitaker exhaled slowly. "Then we need to know what's on the other side before we start throwing nukes."
Lee leaned against a wall near Cole, whispering, "Called it. They're gonna send us through."Cole didn't look at him. "You know, if you ever become psychic, the army will still find a way to underpay you."
"Major," Whitaker continued. "Effective immediately, you'll lead Task Force Frontier, joint operations with scientific personnel. Your mission is reconnaissance, assessment, and containment. You leave when the equipment's ready."Cole nodded. "Understood."
Whitaker's tone softened. "And, Major—good work yesterday. You kept the line from collapsing. The President himself read your report."
Cole didn't flinch, but his throat tightened. "Permission to speak freely, sir?""Granted.""I'd rather he hadn't needed to."
Whitaker gave a small, knowing smile. "None of us wanted to."
Outside the tent, dawn broke pale and heavy with smoke.The bay shimmered beneath the Gate's golden reflection.Down on the piers, engineers set up perimeter beacons while camera crews tried to get shots before MPs chased them off.
Reyes stood by a Humvee, stuffing equipment into a crate. "Can you believe it? A real interdimensional portal, and they actually let me near it.""Careful what you wish for," Cole said. "They might let you in it.""That's the plan, Major. Science waits for no one.""Neither do dragons."
She smiled, eyes bright behind soot-streaked glasses. "I read your report. You're sure it was a dragon?""I'm sure it wasn't a seagull."
Lee jogged over, a fresh clipboard in hand. "Sir, Pentagon wants us to name the task force formally. 'Operation Frontier Light' is the file name, but PR's asking for something that sounds friendlier."Cole frowned. "Friendlier?""Yeah. Something that won't terrify the taxpayers. 'Expedition' sounds better than 'invasion.'""Tell them to call it what it is," Cole said."And that is?"He looked up at the Gate, humming like a star waiting to blink. "A very bad idea we're already committed to."
By afternoon, the first perimeter around the Gate was secure.Robotic probes rolled across the waterfront and vanished into the glowing arch.Three of them transmitted clean video for twenty seconds before cutting off. The fourth came back half-melted, edges glassed smooth.
"That's reassuring," Lee muttered.Reyes adjusted her headset. "Data says breathable atmosphere, Earth-like gravity, ambient temperature twenty-two Celsius. We're calling it habitable.""Calling it that doesn't make it less likely to eat us," Cole said.
Whitaker's voice crackled over comms. "Task Force Frontier will deploy within forty-eight hours. Major Cole, assemble your personnel. You'll have a combined detachment: Army infantry, Air Force tech support, civilian science teams. Keep them alive, and bring back intel.""Yes, sir."
As the radio clicked off, Lee said quietly, "You ever notice how they make suicide missions sound like internships?"Cole grunted. "Yeah. But interns don't get hazard pay."
They stood together on the pier, watching the sun sink behind the Gate's impossible glow.It pulsed again—slow, deliberate—like a heartbeat across worlds.
Cole felt the weight of what was coming settle in his chest."Rules of engagement, Sergeant," he said finally. "When we go through that thing, you shoot only if shot at. Unless it's a dragon.""Special clause?""Standing order."
Lee smirked. "Copy that, sir. Dragons get no due process."
The Gate flickered, just once.Somewhere beyond its golden curve, shadows moved.
And for the first time since the attack, Cole wasn't sure if the war was over—or only just beginning.