Grand Central Terminal was a war zone.
Kyla had seen pictures of the beautiful historic building—the famous ceiling with painted constellations, the grand staircases, the iconic four-sided clock. Now the ceiling was partially collapsed, ice covered every surface, and the main concourse was littered with frozen bodies and debris. The famous clock had stopped at 11:47, the exact time the weak point had opened.
"The weak point is in the tunnels below," Morrison explained through the radio. "Track 42, about two hundred feet down. Problem is, the creatures have spread through the entire subway system. We're getting reports of them as far south as Union Square and as far north as 125th Street."
"How many creatures are we talking about?" Josh asked, checking his equipment. His ribs were bandaged under his uniform, and he moved carefully, favoring his left side.
"Conservative estimate? Three hundred. Maybe more. They're using the tunnels like highways, popping up at different stations to attack, then disappearing back underground." Morrison's voice was grim. "We've lost contact with two National Guard squads that went down there. I'm not sending anyone else until we have a plan."
Kyla studied the subway maps that Dr. Chen had spread out on a table in the makeshift command center they'd set up in a hotel lobby across from Grand Central. "The tunnels are a maze. If we go down there blind, we'll get picked off one by one."
"We need to funnel them," Captain Rodriguez said, joining the discussion. She'd arrived from Central Park with her team, all of them looking exhausted. "Force them to come to us instead of hunting them in the dark."
"How?" Stevens asked. He was sporting a black eye from the Hudson pier fight and looked dead on his feet.
"Fire," Josh said suddenly. "We set fires in the tunnels, creating a perimeter around Track 42. The smoke and heat will drive the creatures toward the weak point. Then we close it while they're all in one place."
"That's risky," Dr. Walsh said, looking up from her equipment. "Subway tunnels aren't designed for large fires. The smoke could kill people trapped down there. And we don't know how many civilians are still in the system."
"Then we evacuate first," Kyla decided. "We send teams through the tunnels, clear out any civilians, then start the fires. We'll have maybe an hour before the heat and smoke become dangerous."
"An hour to evacuate miles of subway tunnels," Morrison said skeptically. "That's not much time."
"It's what we have." Kyla turned to the assembled officers and soldiers. "I need volunteers. This is going to be dangerous—dark tunnels, hostile creatures, limited visibility. No one will think less of you if you sit this one out."
Every single person in the room raised their hand.
Kyla felt a lump in her throat. These people—cops, soldiers, scientists—they were all willing to risk their lives to save a city. "Okay. Let's divide into teams. Rodriguez, take your soldiers and clear the northern tunnels. Stevens, you've got the southern route. Josh and I will head directly for Track 42 with Dr. Walsh to place the resonance device."
"What about the fires?" Delgado asked. She was on crutches from her broken leg but had refused to stay behind.
"Once we confirm the tunnels are clear, FDNY will start controlled burns at strategic points," Morrison said. "They're already positioning equipment at station entrances."
They geared up—flashlights, flame units, emergency oxygen masks in case of smoke, and radio communicators. Dr. Walsh triple-checked the resonance device, making sure it would work in the enclosed space of the tunnels.
"This device is more powerful than the others," she explained. "It has to be, to collapse a weak point this large. When you activate it, you'll have maybe five seconds to get clear before the resonance wave hits. Any longer and..." She didn't finish, but her meaning was clear. Stay too close, and they'd be caught in the collapse.
"Five seconds," Josh repeated. "That's not much."
"It's enough," Kyla said, trying to sound confident. "We've done this before."
"Yeah, but I'm getting tired of almost dying," Josh muttered.
They descended into Grand Central's lower levels, flashlights cutting through the darkness. The temperature dropped immediately—the creatures' presence made everything cold. Ice covered the walls, and their breath came out in visible puffs.
The tunnels were worse than Kyla had imagined. Narrow, dark, and claustrophobic, with limited sight lines and hundreds of places for creatures to hide. Water dripped from pipes overhead, and strange echoes made it impossible to tell where sounds were coming from.
"This is awful," Josh whispered. "I hate this."
"Everyone hates this," Stevens replied over the radio from his position in the southern tunnels. "But we're doing it anyway because we're either brave or stupid. Haven't decided which."
They moved carefully, weapons ready, checking every shadow. The first creature appeared after they'd gone about fifty feet—a smaller one, maybe six feet tall, emerging from a side tunnel. Kyla's flame unit took it down quickly, but the sound of its death shriek echoed through the tunnels.
"That's going to bring more," Rodriguez warned over the radio. "Pick up the pace."
They moved faster, encountering more creatures as they went deeper. Small ones at first, then larger ones, then a group of five that attacked in coordination. The fighting was brutal in the confined space—no room to maneuver, no way to retreat. Kyla took a hit to her already-injured shoulder and barely stayed on her feet. Josh's ribs were clearly causing him pain, but he kept fighting.
After twenty minutes of running battles, they reached Track 42. The platform was frozen solid, and at the far end, hanging in the air above the tracks, was the weak point. It was massive—easily twice the size of the one in Times Square—and creatures were crawling through it in a steady stream.
"That's a lot of monsters," Dr. Walsh said, stating the obvious.
"Yeah." Kyla counted at least fifty on the platform alone, with more emerging every few seconds. "We can't fight through that many."
"We don't have to," Josh said. "We just need to get close enough to place the device. What's the range on the resonance effect?"
"About thirty feet," Dr. Walsh said. "But you'd need to activate it while creatures are literally breathing down your necks."
"That's fine. I'm used to that by now." Josh grabbed the device from Dr. Walsh's pack. "Kyla and I will make a run for it. You provide cover from here."
"That's suicide," Rodriguez said over the radio. She'd been listening in from the northern tunnels.
"Probably," Josh agreed. "But we're out of better options. Morrison, are the civilians clear?"
"Last team just confirmed—tunnels are empty except for creatures. You're clear to start the fires."
"Do it. And tell FDNY to make them big. We need to drive these things toward us."
Within minutes, Kyla could smell smoke. The fires were spreading through the tunnel system, pushed along by the ventilation systems. The creatures on the platform noticed too—they started moving, agitated, backing away from the advancing heat and smoke.
"It's working," Stevens reported. "Creatures in the southern tunnels are moving north, toward Track 42."
"Same in the northern section," Rodriguez confirmed. "They're all heading your way."
"Perfect," Kyla said, though she didn't feel like anything was perfect. In a few minutes, every creature in the subway system would be converging on their position. "Everyone, fall back to the surface. Josh and I will handle this."
"Martinez—" Rodriguez started to protest.
"That's an order, Captain." Kyla was surprised by how authoritative she sounded. "We need you alive to help coordinate the other weak points. Get your people out."
After a moment, Rodriguez responded. "Understood. Good luck. Both of you."
The radio went quiet except for the sound of teams retreating through the tunnels. Soon, it was just Kyla and Josh on Track 42, watching as more and more creatures flooded onto the platform. The smoke was getting thicker, the heat more intense.
"Ready?" Josh asked, holding the device.
"Not even a little bit," Kyla admitted. "But let's do it anyway."
They charged.
The creatures saw them immediately and swarmed forward. Kyla fired her flame unit, clearing a path, while Josh ran beside her with the device. They made it about twenty feet before the creatures surrounded them.
Kyla fought with everything she had. Her flame unit took down three creatures, then four. When it ran out of fuel, she drew her service weapon and started shooting. The bullets didn't do much damage, but they slowed the creatures down, bought precious seconds.
Josh reached the optimal position, about twenty-five feet from the weak point. He dropped to one knee and started the activation sequence. "Blue button pressed! Arming now!"
A massive creature—one of the adapted ones that barely felt heat—grabbed Kyla and threw her against the wall. Pain exploded through her body, and her vision went white for a second. When it cleared, the creature was advancing on Josh, who was focused on the device.
"Josh!" Kyla screamed.
Josh looked up just as the creature's claws came down. He rolled away, but the device flew from his hands, skittering across the frozen platform. The red activation button hadn't been pressed yet.
The creature stood between Josh and the device.
Kyla didn't think. She ran, ignoring the pain in her shoulder and ribs, and tackled the creature from behind. It was like hitting a wall of ice, but her momentum knocked it off-balance. She drew her backup knife—a small blade she'd started carrying after Tides—and drove it into what passed for the creature's neck.
The knife shattered on impact, but the creature turned its attention from Josh to her.
Josh scrambled for the device. "Got it! Pressing red button now!"
The device activated with that familiar reality-breaking hum. Five seconds.
The massive creature's hand wrapped around Kyla's throat, lifting her off her feet. She couldn't breathe, couldn't scream. The world started to go dark.
Four seconds.
A stream of fire hit the creature directly in the face. Not from a flame unit—the heat was wrong, too intense. Kyla's blurring vision saw Josh standing there, holding something that looked like a flare gun modified with parts from his broken flame unit.
Three seconds.
The creature dropped Kyla and staggered back. Josh grabbed her and ran, half-carrying her as she gasped for air.
Two seconds.
They dove behind a support column just as the resonance wave hit.
One second.
The world exploded with sound and light.
The weak point collapsed violently, imploding like a star going supernova in reverse. The dimensional energy released in the collapse created a shockwave that threw creatures through the air like toys. But something strange was happening. Instead of just dying, the creatures were dissolving into particles of light—blue and white, sparkling like ice crystals—and those particles were being pulled into the collapsing weak point.
"They're being pulled back!" Josh shouted over the noise. "The weak point is sucking them through!"
He was right. Every creature on Track 42 was being dragged toward the collapsing portal, their bodies breaking down into energy and disappearing through it. Not just dying—being sent home.
The weak point continued to collapse, pulling harder. Kyla felt the suction even from behind the column, a force trying to drag her toward it.
"Hold on!" Josh wrapped his arms around the column, and Kyla wrapped her arms around him.
The suction intensified. Creatures all through the subway system were being pulled toward Track 42, some fighting against it, others already dissolving. The smoke from the fires was being pulled in too, creating a vortex of air and light and energy.
Then, with a final thunderclap, the weak point collapsed completely.
Silence fell. The creatures were gone. All of them.
Kyla and Josh stayed behind the column for a long moment, breathing hard, making sure it was really over.
"Did we..." Kyla started.
"Yeah," Josh finished. "Four weak points down. Two to go."
The radio crackled to life. "Martinez, Reeves, report!" Morrison's voice was urgent. "We saw something on the sensors—massive energy discharge from your position. What happened?"
"Weak point closed," Kyla reported, her throat sore from where the creature had grabbed her. "And something new happened. The creatures were pulled back through the portal as it collapsed. They didn't die—they were sent home."
"That's... unexpected," Dr. Walsh's voice came through. "But it makes sense. The weak point was their connection to our dimension. When it collapsed, the connection broke, sending everything back to its origin point. Like a rubber band snapping back."
"Does that mean all the creatures we've killed are actually alive on the other side?" Josh asked.
"Possibly. Or they died the moment they were separated from our dimensional energy. Hard to say." Dr. Walsh paused. "But this is good news. It means closing the weak points doesn't just stop new creatures from coming through—it sends the existing ones back. We can clear entire cities in seconds."
"Then let's clear some cities," Captain Rodriguez said. "Brooklyn and Queens weak points are still active. Let's finish this."
Kyla and Josh climbed back to the surface, emerging from Grand Central into early morning sunlight. The contrast was jarring—below, they'd been fighting for their lives in darkness. Above, the world continued. People were being evacuated, emergency crews worked on the damage, and the city slowly came back to life.
A news crew spotted them emerging and immediately rushed over, cameras rolling.
"Officers! Can you tell us what happened down there? Are the monsters gone? What were those things?" A reporter shoved a microphone in Kyla's face.
"No comment," Kyla managed, trying to push past.
But more reporters appeared, surrounding them. "The people deserve answers! What is the government hiding? Are we being invaded?"
"We said no comment!" Josh put himself between Kyla and the cameras, his expression fierce.
NYPD officers formed a barrier, pushing the press back so Kyla and Josh could get to the command vehicle. Inside, Morrison was coordinating the final two operations while fielding calls from what seemed like every government agency in existence.
"The mayor wants a briefing. The governor wants a briefing. The President wants a briefing," Morrison said, rubbing her temples. "Everyone wants to know what the hell is happening in my city."
"Tell them the truth," Dr. Walsh said simply. "It's too big to cover up now. Too many witnesses, too much footage. The world needs to know."
"Know what? That monsters from another dimension are invading? That'll cause mass panic."
"Or mass preparation," Captain Rodriguez countered. "If people know what they're facing, they can defend themselves. We've proven these creatures can be beaten."
Morrison looked at Kyla and Josh. "What do you two think? You're the ones on the front lines."
Kyla thought about all the people they'd saved, all the ones they'd lost. About the little girl in Tides, the frozen bodies in Boston, the officers who'd died fighting beside them. People deserved to know the truth. They deserved a chance to prepare, to protect themselves, to understand what they were up against.
"Tell them," she said. "Tell them everything."
The radio crackled with an update from Brooklyn. "Weak point at the Navy Yard is under assault. We're in position to close it."
"Queens team is ready to move on their target as well," another voice reported.
"Simultaneous closure," Dr. Walsh suggested. "If we close both weak points at the same time, any creatures in between will be pulled back through the nearest portal. We can clear the entire city in one move."
"Do it," Morrison ordered. "All teams, execute on my mark. Three... two... one... mark!"
Through the command center's windows, Kyla saw flashes of light from two directions—Brooklyn and Queens. The resonance devices activated simultaneously, and even from miles away, she could feel the energy discharge.
On the monitors showing news feeds, creatures throughout New York began dissolving, pulled toward the closing weak points. In Times Square, in Central Park, in every neighborhood that had been under assault—the creatures were disappearing, being sucked back to their own dimension.
Within two minutes, every creature in New York City was gone.
The radio exploded with reports. "Brooklyn weak point closed!"
"Queens weak point closed!"
"All creatures in Manhattan have vanished!"
"Confirmed clear in all five boroughs!"
A cheer went up in the command center. Officers hugged each other, some crying with relief. They'd done it. They'd saved New York.
Morrison wiped her eyes, then grabbed the radio. "All units, excellent work. Begin recovery operations. Medical teams, start treating wounded. Everyone else, help with civilian evacuation and damage assessment." She turned to Kyla and Josh. "You two... you saved my city. Thank you."
"Just doing our job," Kyla said, though it felt inadequate.
"No. This was way beyond your job." Morrison shook their hands firmly. "New York owes you a debt we can never repay."
Dr. Walsh approached with her tablet. "I'm getting reports from the other cities. Boston is still clear. But we've got new weak points opening in Chicago, Los Angeles, and Miami. And something else..." She showed them satellite imagery. "We're detecting major energy buildups in remote areas—Alaska, Siberia, the Arctic. It looks like the King is preparing for something big."
"How big?" Josh asked.
"Potentially catastrophic. If these energy readings are accurate, he's building toward a massive assault. Something that will make New York look like a skirmish."
Before anyone could respond, every screen in the command center flickered. News feeds, monitors, even phones—everything displayed the same image.
The Herald.
The ice figure from the collapsing weak point, now appearing on every electronic device in the command center. In the city. Possibly in the entire world.
"People of Earth," the Herald's voice echoed, cold and hollow. "You have resisted the King's generous offer to join his realm. You have destroyed his heralds, killed his soldiers, and closed his gateways. This will not be forgiven."
The image shifted, showing that frozen wasteland on the other side of the dimensional barrier. And there, standing on a throne made of black ice, was a figure that could only be the King. Massive, ancient, powerful beyond comprehension.
"Three days," the Herald continued. "In three days, during the celestial alignment, the King himself will cross over. Not through weak points. Not with an army of creatures. He will tear open the barrier between worlds and step through personally. And when he does, your world will kneel or it will freeze. This is your only warning. Prepare yourselves."
The screens went black.
Silence filled the command center.
Then Morrison's phone rang. Then another. Then dozens of phones, all at once, as the world reacted to what they'd just seen.
The invasion wasn't over.
It was about to get much, much worse.
End of Chapter 20