The clock on the wall read 09:17.
It had not moved in hours. Its broken state had nothing to do with their broken situation, but it did well to reflect it.
The Prime Minister sat at the head of the table, hands folded, eyes hollow from a lack of sleep no aide dared to comment on. Around him, the cabinet chamber no longer resembled a place of governance. Papers lay scattered. Maps were projected onto three walls at once. Red zones pulsed faintly across the country like infected tissue.
It's not what he had imagined when he ran for office.
"Begin," he said.
The Minister of Internal Security stood first. His voice was steady, rehearsed, and exhausted.
"Timeline confirmation," he began. "The Awakening occurred at 16:42 on the first day, occurring simultaneously nationwide and worldwide, granting abilities across all regions. However, the first outbreaks of violence and civil unrest were recorded in outskirts, border cities, and low-density urban areas, where order collapsed within minutes."
He swallowed. He hated reporting this specific failure. "Jailbreaks happened nationwide almost immediately. Religious tensions turned into violence in the south with talks about the doomsday."
"At 17:03, we lost coherent emergency reporting. Cellular networks were flooded. Social platforms accelerated panic. False footage, fabricated claims, religious declarations, and calls to violence spread faster than we could verify or suppress."
The Prime Minister nodded once. "Which is why I ordered the blackout."
"Yes, sir."
A new map appeared. Communication lines went dark across the country.
"The shutdown of internet and civilian communication services was enacted at 17:21, forty minutes after first contact. Defense networks, military channels, and emergency radio bands were preserved."
The Minister hesitated, then added, "The objective was threefold."
He raised a finger.
"First: contain panic. The rate of violent escalation correlated directly with online rumor density."
A second finger.
"Second: prevent cross-city coordination. Armed groups were already organizing digitally within the first hour. Without shutdown, we projected nationwide militias by nightfall."
A third finger.
"Third: protect intelligence integrity. We could not afford adversarial exploitation - foreign or domestic - while we didn't even understand the phenomenon."
Silence followed.
The Prime Minister spoke again. "And electricity."
The Energy Minister answered immediately. "Maintained nationwide. Hospitals, water facilities, food storage, transport hubs, and shelters required continuity. Cutting power would have multiplied casualties by orders of magnitude."
"And," the Prime Minister added quietly, "dark cities breed monsters."
No one disagreed. Monsters were meant for fantasies and movies before, but not anymore.
---
The Chief of Staff cleared her throat and changed the projection.
Now the map showed fractured territories - no national cohesion, only clusters.
"The blackout achieved its immediate goals," she said. "No large-scale cross-city organizations formed. No unified uprising."
She paused, then continued.
"But the absence of information created local chaos. Religious groups took over the south border near the Strait of Giltar. Our northern borders are now a warzone for gangs and small local police forces that await our reinforcements"
Markers bloomed across the map.
"Cities turned inward. Without communication, people defaulted to proximity and belief. Riots occurred in nearly every urban center. In the vacuum, small groups seized control - gangs, cult leaders, armed civilians, former criminals, and individuals awakened with lethal abilities."
She didn't soften the words.
"They became local authorities. Lords, in practice."
A general leaned forward. "And they're unstable."
"Yes," she replied. "Most are already at war with each other."
Another map overlay appeared. A wide circle expanded outward from the capital. It spread to the west and the east, stretching to the borders. However, it fell short when it came to the other two directions.
"The military currently controls approximately sixty percent of the country, secured outward in a radius from the capital. Stability drops sharply beyond that perimeter."
The Prime Minister closed his eyes briefly.
"Which brings us to today," he said. "Day Three."
He opened them again. "We cannot govern a country that cannot hear us. Now that we have pulled ourselves together, we don't have to fear cross-city organizations. Most of those little lords wouldn't agree to become subordinates to another, already deep in the ambitions to remain at the top."
A murmur ran through the room.
The Minister of Information spoke carefully. "Restoring internet and civilian communication will also restore panic."
"Yes," the Prime Minister said. "But it will also restore reality. We have enough concrete achievements to show the public, to give them hope and a reason to trust us."
He stood.
"Silence was a tourniquet. It stopped the bleeding, but it's killing the limb."
No one interrupted.
"Today, we restore internet and phone services to the public. Gradually. Region by region. Under monitoring."
The Defense Minister frowned. "That risks coordination between hostile groups."
"It also allows families to reconnect," the Prime Minister replied. "And people who can speak are less likely to burn their cities down out of fear."
He turned to the radio advisor.
"What do we tell them?"
The advisor hesitated. "We recommend controlled transparency."
"Meaning?"
"We confirm the Awakening. We confirm awakenings. We do not speculate on cause. We emphasize rarity, containment, and ongoing research. We avoid religious language. We avoid blame."
"And casualties?"
A pause.
"We report numbers without footage."
The Prime Minister nodded. "Good. No myths. No miracles. No end-of-the-world sermons. Report only confirmed deaths, and let the number accumulate slowly over the days. It should reduce impact."
He looked around the table.
"We tell them this:
The government exists.
The military is advancing.
Order is being restored.
And no one is chosen."
The last words landed heavily.
---
The Science Director finally spoke, voice thin but resolute.
"We still don't know why awakenings occur. No pattern by age, belief, or geography. Powers vary wildly. Some are lethal. Some are defensive. Some appear uncontrollable."
"Can we suppress them?" the Prime Minister asked.
"Not yet."
"Contain them?"
"Sometimes."
"Train them?"
The director hesitated. "Possibly. If we survive long enough."
The room fell silent.
"Then we govern as if every citizen might be a weapon," the Prime Minister said. "And every weapon is still a citizen."
He straightened his jacket.
"Restore communication. Control the narrative. Advance the perimeter. Fund the research. And prepare for a country that will never go back to the way it was."
"There's one more thing," The Science Director hesitated. "Some animals grew bigger and stronger, but still not enough to pause a threat to humanity. Others show strange behaviors, including long sleeps. We hypothesized that their evolution is longer, and the results will be… accordingly."
"Measures of prevention?" The Prime Minster frowned. Whenever one problem was almost closed, another opened.
"Animals in the zoos are all surrounded by staff with tranquilizer guns, ten times the normal dosage. However, none taken against wildlife."
It seemed like they could only pray in that front. Nonetheless, Many felt relieved. For the first time since the Awakening, they felt that the situation was somewhat under control. The Prime Minister's firm grip over the country, his decisive nature, his authority – they all stabilized the situation.
Knocks stopped their discussion. It used to be rare for a government meeting to be interrupted, but recently there was an urgent report every hour, so nobody even batted their eyes.
A man in military uniforms entered the room, his rank nothing to be scoffed at. "Sir," he started his report, "There were sights of… monsters."