The rain came down in silver sheets against the penthouse windows, washing Veyloris Metropolis in a blurred glow of streetlights and late-night traffic. Aiden stood alone in the dim office of his newest acquisition — AstraCore Analytics, a mid-level data-infrastructure company he had just absorbed into the Awakening Group portfolio.
It had taken a full year to climb from nothing to nine digits. But the second year…
This was when things would become dangerous.
Behind him, the glass doors slid open.
"Sir," Ama said, entering with a tablet tucked under her arm. "The Yuan resonance signatures you predicted… they've started appearing again."
Aiden didn't turn, but the faint crimson shimmer in his pupils ignited like a responding flame.
"How many incidents?"
"Seven," she replied. "Three in Veyloris Metropolis. Two in Highcrest Dominion. One in Seabrine Arcology. One… offshore."
Offshore.
So it had begun.
Year two wasn't only about expansion anymore — it was about interception.
Aiden finally turned. "Show me."
Ama placed the tablet on the table. Pulsing nodes appeared on a dark map, each marked with the faint outline of the Yuan Spirit glyph only Aiden could fully decipher.
"Energy spikes similar to the Sovereign Wraith Core we found last year," Ama continued. "But more unstable. Like something is pushing through the seams."
"Nothing is pushing through," Aiden corrected softly. "Something is waking up."
He tapped the Seabrine node. The data expanded — seismic distortions, unexplained EMP bursts, and a heat signature no human technology should generate.
Aiden breathed in slowly.
This was the real timeline.
The one he remembered.
The one Earth was racing toward.
And he had two years at most before the early phase hit.
Ama shifted beside him. "Sir… the board is worried. We've been expanding too quickly. Four companies in the last month alone. People are starting to ask questions."
"Let them ask."
"Aiden—"
He looked up sharply. "Ama. This is not ambition. It's preparation. Every acquisition is a piece of infrastructure the world will beg for when the awakening begins."
"You're talking about the apocalypse again," she muttered, tension flickering across her face.
"I'm not talking about it," Aiden said. "I'm preventing us from being swallowed by it."
Ama fell silent. She had seen enough anomalies to no longer argue — only to fear what he was preparing for.
Aiden returned his gaze to the city. "Schedule a flight for tomorrow. We're handling Mombasa personally."
Ama stiffened. "Personally? Sir, the company launch for AstraCore is in two days—"
"Move it to next week."
"But—"
"I said move it."
Her breath caught at the finality in his voice. Then she bowed lightly.
"Yes, sir."
The doors closed behind her.
Aiden remained still for a long moment.
The rain intensified, streaking the glass like falling stars.
His reflection stared back at him — older now, sharper, a man carrying a weight no human should.
At twenty-one, he had surpassed the wealth ceiling that should have taken ten lifetimes.
Money was power.
Power was protection.
Protection was leverage when the world cracked open.
But even with this momentum, the feeling gnawed at him.
He was late.
And something in Seabrine was calling him by name.
He grabbed his coat, stepped toward the private elevator, and whispered under his breath:
"Year two begins now."
The doors slid shut.
And the city lights dimmed as if the world itself was holding its breath.