Eight

As Jonathan entered the bathroom, he felt a slight jolt. The ground under him seems to be moving for a second before just as suddenly stopping. Jonathan frowned as he got his feet under him.

The tremors have become more and more frequent lately...

Of course, all the news seems to be vying with each other to say that it was only a temporary phenomenon.

Just seismic activity, completely normal. Don't panic.

There is no reason to leave Mount Glenn.

These are only minor, temporary problems, and our specialists are already solving the problem that has arisen in front of them with all possible haste.

The authorities on Earth, or even in an Umbral World, remained the same.

Jonathan could smell it. The tension in the air. The whole city was saturated with tension. Every casual conversation he heard, every meaningless exchange of words between a seller and a buyer, every accidental glance… All has an undercurrent of tension,

Something was happening to Mount Glenn. Something large-scale and something…

Terrible, Jonathan, let's be honest here. Something terrible is happening.

Yes. There was no point in denying it. Something terrible was happening to Mount Glenn.

And of course we can't do anything about it, can we, Jonathan? We are just a grain of sand left to the mercy of the wind. We are not a superhero who can do things that are impossible to mere mortals and therefore capable of solving problems beyond the control of ordinary people… Oh, no, wait a minute!

Jonathan clasped his head in his hands, closing his eyes.

It doesn't bother me. It doesn't bother me.

But once, in the past, the prospect of doing nothing when you can help, would bother you, you know...

Jonathan exhaled slowly, opening his eyes, staring into the mirror in front of him.

Fucking mirror and this fucking bathroom…

Jonathan didn't like mirrors. He didn't like the look his reflection gave him. He didn't like the way it looked at him with condemnation. Didn't like it. Hated it. He wanted to destroy it. Despised it.

And you couldn't help. As always, Jonathan, there's always a reason… Was that what you told yourself when you killed that policeman?

Jonathan looked up, looking at himself, at the person beyond the mirror. Jonathan's reflection mirrored his actions with perfect precision.

There was no glint in his reflection and there was no grin, There was nothing living beyond the mirror.

His reflection, the Jonathan in the mirror… There was nothing there.

Dead, Jonathan. Dead, that policeman was killed. Murdered even.

Jonathan clenched his fist, then raised it, looking hatefully at the person behind the mirror.

His reflection did the same… But there was no emotion in the reflection's eyes.

There was no hatred and there was no rage.

Jonathan's reflection was ready to strike back, but not before Jonathan himself decided to break this mirror forever…

You killed him, Jonathan. You, you and only you.

Jonathan clenched his fist even tighter as he stared hatefully into the mirror.

What happened to your pompous speeches, huh, Jonathan? How about your declaration of doing the right thing? What now, Jonathan? Yup, your life is the most precious, right? Or is your limit of kindness already reached, Jonathan? Well, strike then, Jonathan Goodman.

Jonathan felt his clenching fist tremble with tension.

STRIKE.

Jonathan punched the mirror, teeth clenched, jaw squeaking.

STRIKE.

Jonathan punched the broken mirror again and again, as the rush of anger and resentment choked him.

STRIKE! STRIKE! STRIKE! STRIKE! STRIKE!

Satisfied that there's no reflective surface left unbroken, he slowly lowered his bleeding hand...

The old man would have been ecstatic watching you destroy a mirror.

The total destruction of the mirror started with something small. First there was a crunch, then a crash, the small fragments of the mirror fell down, falling and crumbling on the tiled floor, bits of it falling on the ceramics of the sink, while most scattered on the tiled floor.

Jonathan looked up again, looking into what's left of the mirror that was no longer in its place. A simple metal frame, with only a few broken shards of mirror remaining, in which nothing was reflected. Not his face, not his anger, nor his raised fist.

Drop.

Jonathan blinked at the strange sound. Was it starting to rain?

Drop.

A slight feeling of discomfort in his hand made Jonathan raise it to his eyes.

Drop.

A small drop of blood escaped Jonathan's hand from a bleeding wound. Drops of blood splattered against the tiled floor, the shards of the mirror, and the sink as it slowly trickled down the drain. The small cut in his arms made Jonathan blink, shaking off his daze before drawing in air.

His hand didn't hurt, it just sobered him.

After another moment, hurried light steps were heard outside the door. After which an insistent, loud knock on the bathroom door made Jonathan look away from his reflection, the bare wall. "Jonathan! Are you okay?!"

"I'm fine!", - Jonathan answered back instantly."Don't come in! I accidentally broke the mirror, the bathroom is filled with sharp glass! I'm cleaning it."

"Careful, Jonathan!" Cinder's voice sounded agitated, before she started speaking again. "Are you hurt!? Do you need help?! I can call the ambulance!"

"No, no, it's nothing, I'm fine." Jonathan answered slowly and clearly, calming his breath down. "Just… Can you grab a roll of bandage and peroxide from the first aid kit?."

"You're hurt?!" Jonathan heard Cinder trying to open the door, pulling the handle, "Don't move! I'm going to call an ambulance!"

"It's okay Cinder! No need to call the ambulance, it's just a small cut," Jonathan replied calmly, then glanced at the floor to see the damage.

The many shards of reflective glass on the floor reflected Jonathan's face from many angles, each of them seemed to be looking at him… with expectations.

Do it, Jonathan. Do whatever you want.

Jonathan exhaled and took a step to the broom and pan that was luckily also inside the bathroom, trying not to step on the fragments of the mirror. "And anyway, Cinder, it's time for you to sleep! You have school tomorrow!"

Or the world will do everything for you.

***

"So… still no progress." Olivia swallowed down a nervous shriek. And Gretchen, sensing the state of her leader, immediately pulled her closer, hugging her close.

"All flights are delayed indefinitely," Roman replied as he nervously tapped his finger on the table. A habit that he previously never had, but which suited his nervous state at this moment so well. " All flights are grounded until the end of the 'seismic activity'."

Gretchen was sometimes a little harsh… Well, Gretchen was often overly harsh — but she was never a fool. Her grades were average solely because of her restless nature, and not because she could not study well. And those few unlucky people who once decided to bully a girl who seemed so defenseless under the tutelage of an older brother… Never before had Beacon's medical staff seen so many fractures on one body.

Gretchen was not stupid, and she understood what is happening. The phrase 'shit hitting the fan' didn't even begin to describe a thousandth of the pile of excrement that they'd gotten themselves into on this mission.

It was supposed to only be a normal training mission. The first mission they would undertake without the supervision of a teacher or professional hunter. A little test on how well they were prepared for the start of their close hunting career. It was definitely not something that placed the students against certain death.

When they were assigned the mission, Gretchen regarded it as almost a holiday of sorts. They would be monitoring a small cluster of Grimm near a major settlement, and pretty much spend almost a month of the assignment doing nothing!

They almost even had a fight with another team because their mission was that easy.

Moreover, Night, as if deliberately trying to arouse as much suspicion as possible by their action, secretly bought two tickets for this new film during the mission. Gretchen would not mind at all to go with him somewhere in the abundant free time that they were supposed to have in this milk run of a mission…

Who could imagine that their mission would turn into such a clusterfuck?.

A Super-horde. The farce that was the botched evacuation order and the subsequent enforcement of Martial Law. Olivia's panic. And then worst of all…

"We will not be able to get out of here, not before it's too late anyway." Roman, usually throwing light jokes and black humor, was surprisingly not so cheerful right now.

"No, no we could not." She agreed. A complete ban on flights to and from Mount Glenn, the official reason being that 'the intermittent seismic activity could damage the take-off sites. Flights would be temporarily delayed pending an assessment of the damage'.

And the real reason being… everyone on her team knew the real reason.

However, worst of all... it seemed like it was the truth. After all, the tremors had also damaged the foundation of the CCT tower of Mount Glenn, making any communication in and out of the city impossible. At least that's what the official said happened.

Did someone instead turn it off on purpose? Why? To hide information? To prevent any communication with the world outside?

Gretchen didn't know. She no longer believed in anything.

The government was silent, and the people didn't know anything about the approaching super-horde. And as Creek's arrest, the only people that knew of the danger, showed, the people of Mount Glenn wouldn't be told about it.

"We can't stay here though," Night expressed something very obvious, causing the other hunters-in -training to turn towards him, "A horde of Grimm is on the doorstep."

"And how do you propose we get out of here?" Roman replied sarcastically at Night, expressing his contempt with his eyes. "Never mind the fact that going out there on foot is suicide, I will remind you that none of us can fly even if we somehow hijack a Bullhead. And if you try to convince me that walking to Vale on foot through a Super-horde of Grimm… I ask that you to think about that idea some more, because that's Brothers-damned stupid!"

After Roman's outburst, there was silence. An uncomfortable, cloying silence…

"There's the Subway! The train tracks run all the way to Vale, and it's underground, so we'll be able to bypass the Super-horde. We'll have to get into the subway!" Olivia suddenly added.

"Our Scrolls couldn't connect with Beacon, and the train station would be guarded by soldiers… But this is the only option where we could survive." Gretchen found Olivia's desperate gaze with her own eyes.

Olivia doesn't break rules. Of course, she was not an unfeeling machine, to whom rules have replaced reason and emotion, but Olivia always acted by the rules. She had learned the protocols word by word and memorized the required etiquette in any situation… And yet, it has all come down to this.

They were going to fight the police force of Mount Glenn, possibly even killing them to save themselves. Even Olivia knew that the rules would not save her in the current situation.

Indeed, no such procedure existed, no amount of rule bending would save them now…

"We'll have to fight our way through the military cordon. Perhaps we even have to use… lethal force." Olivia looked around her team. "Waiting doesn't work. Five days. For five days we have been trying to find another way out, and we haven't found any. We are left with only one option."

So many jokes and friendly teasing, so many barbs Roman could have inserted in response to these remarks, and Roman was silent. Usually, Gretchen would have been dealing with snide remarks, or even just meaningful smirks from her male teammates as their rule-abiding friend suggested such an illegal act. She would even admit to herself that she enjoyed Roman's more rambunctious acts…

Now? There was only silence… Gretchen swallowed her saliva slowly, her throat felt very dry. "We… When?"

Olivia looked up at the ticking clock. "In an hour," Olivia added solemnly. "Check your equipment and… we'll make our way into the subway."

Gretchen looked up at her watch. It was eleven o'clock in the evening. It was almost midnight. Usually, one of her teammates would joke that, at this time, Olivia was usually already asleep unlike Gretchen, who considered the night her element, preferring to train in the gym at night. And then in the morning go to classes in the form of an almost dead zombie.

But there were no more jokes to be heard.

Nobody could sleep. For five days, none of them could sleep well. They fell asleep in turn, all gathered together in the room allocated to them… as if to assure themselves that they are safe.

And yet, there was no rest to be found. Anyone that was asleep, would wake up from any rustle and noise from outside the door, expecting a Grimm to burst through the door. All before seeing the apologetic gaze of an awake teammate.

Night was falling on Mount Glenn.

Such a dark night…

***

Night has fallen on Mount Glenn, but Bor did not bother looking at the clock in his office. His office, no, his entire ministry was closed for visits with all the officials sent to their homes. Bor did not know, nor did he even remember, whether it was him that gave this order or not.

Anyone who entered Bor's office now would be greeted by the smell of alcohol. A stench so strong and thick that it seemed that one could get drunk simply by breathing in the air.

Second to that, though, was not the scent of Mistral's exotic establishment beckoning reckless travelers. No, it was a heavy smell of alcohol, combined with vomit and an unwashed body.

Bor had drank heavily.

"Why me?" Bor asked himself this question again and again as he knocked over another glass of expensive cognac. " Why am I being punished so unfairly? What was I guilty of!?"

Bor had given many of his years for the good of Mount Glenn… For the good of his friends. He helped them so much and sacrificed so much, all for the position where he was right now.

He had fled from Vale with nothing! All to escape one of the biggest political scandals since the formation of the Council. And he himself, with his own strength, his intelligence and cunning! With his own hands, sweat, blood and tears that he had made his way to the top!

He had turned Mount Glenn into his personal castle. To his personal fortress…

Just to die here.

Bor poured himself another glass, and then drained it in one gulp.

Creek… Zoen… Hulden… They all fled, all of them abandoned Bor.

Mount Glenn, the place he had built as a new Kingdom, to be the greatest city in the world, free from fauna filth, from those unwashed crowds of the poor, from those wretched and impoverished refugees… He gave so much for this place…

And what did he get in return?

WHAT DID HE GET IN RETURN?!

Bor brushed the bottle of expensive alcohol off of the table in a fit of anger, barely hearing the crash and splash through his intoxicated mind.

Fuck it! Fuck the bottle! Fuck his friends! Fuck Mount Glenn! Fuck everything!

Bor swung and hit the table, feeling his hand protest in pain.

HOW DARE THEY?!

Who had defended Mount Glenn when Vale came demanding subservience!?

BOR!

Who gave them independence!?

BOR!

Whom did they have to thank for their wealth and position!?

BOR!

And this is what they repaid him with?! During his years of service for the benefit of all of Mount Glenn?! For his loyalty to his friends?! For his help to the entire Kingdom - no, to the entirety of Remnant?!

Bor dropped his head into his hands. Before freezing for a second and listening...

He seems to have heard… something.

Bor strained his alcohol-filled mind, trying to figure out exactly what he was hearing.

Sounds… of engines…

And... footsteps… lots of them. And they're getting louder…

Bor shook his head, trying to shake off the drunkenness, which was going poorly. Getting even more dizzy, he raised himself from his chair a little, trying to feel his body.

His shirt… Ha, it seems like he hasn't changed it in days since he started drinking.

Bor looked around his office, which smelled of alcohol and unwashed body, with muddy eyes...

Before he could find whatever it was his intoxicated mind was trying to find, the door to his office opened without any knocking and a woman entered his office.

"You…" Bor tried to focus his eyes on the newcomer, - "You are…"

Thoughts slowly rolled in Bor's head, as he tried to recall who the woman was. "Captain Aisa."

The woman who had appeared on his doorstep was not young. Yes, she looked good for her age, but no one would say that she was young. The woman's graying hair was worn loose and descended to just below the shoulder blades, in violation of all the prescribed norms for the army. The wrinkles on her face, although not deep, also betrayed the fact that she was also the oldest of the three captains of the military in Mount Glenn. And although her body looked trained and spry enough, anyone looking at the woman would assume that she was at least fifty years old…

However, they would be wrong. Captain Aisa Moira was much older.

"Bor Martin," The captain's voice, after decades of smoking, was low and hoarse. And even to Bor's addled hearing, dripping with mockery. "I had hoped that we would never meet ever again. Clearly, things have not been ideal."

"Fuck your mockery," Bor, no longer paying attention to the woman, dropped his head in his hands as he was assaulted by headaches. "Go away, I do not want to talk."

"That's better for me, you can be silent and listen," Contrary to Bor's implied command, Aisa took a step further into Bor's office, closing the door behind her.

"I'm surprised that this room doesn't smell of shit. Judging by the way everything here smelled of alcohol, I wouldn't be surprised if you were too inebriated to move and just shit in your pants." If before, the mockery was hidden behind a facade of formality, now it was all out in the open.

"I said I don't want to talk to you!" Bor rose threateningly from his seat, before suddenly freezing as he felt a rush of vomit rise from within his gut. Still, as he did his best to keep his liquid food down, he was able to keep the fountain of vomit down enough to shout at the captain. "Get out! Mount Glenn is going to die, I will die, and you will also die! Go away!"

"So this is what the terrible, terrible 'King of Mount Glenn' amounted to." Aisa, not feeling even a little scared, just looked at Bor with disdain. It is with no small amount of sadistic joy, as the captain watched, until recently, one of the most influential, no, perhaps the most influential man in Mount Glenn tried to control his vomiting. "You're pathetic, Bor. You are really pathetic."

Bor would have liked to say something back to the captain, maybe even shout some more. But, trying as he was to control his urge to vomit, he did not dare to open his mouth, fearing the consequences of such a decision.

"Didn't you love to boast about how great you are? About how many friends you have, how easily you can make any problem go away with a snap of your fingers? And then you surrender so easily?"

Aisa then took a step towards Bor, now looking down at him figuratively and literally, "Didn't you consider yourself a great player, a great manipulator… You did, didn't you, Bor? Were you not an oyster, that the world would revolve around you? That you were the most powerful and the most dangerous? And then, as soon as the wind blew in the other direction, you were left naked. Lonely. Abandoned. And completely defenseless. You are pathetic, Bor. Really pathetic."

Bor, overcoming the urge to throw out any remnants of water and alcohol that he had absorbed in the past days, only raised his dim gaze before trying to grin. "So what? Is this your attempt to support me? Have you come to try to get me out of the pits?"

"No, Bor," Aisa just looked at him like he was an idiot before nodding, "I came here to end your misery."

A moment later, a pistol slid into the captain's hand, and a moment later the pistol was put to his forehead… and the captain pulled the trigger without a pause.

BOOM!

The large-caliber bullet easily entered Bor's forehead, shattering the bones of his skull before continuing on its way. The bullet turned his brain into mush, and then exited the back of his head, spraying blood, crumbs of bones and bloody mess into his chair. The hole the bullet made was so great, that it almost decapitated Bor's head.

A moment later, the corpse of the recently so dangerous person swayed before limping, falling forward, plastering the limb body on the desk. Aisa took a step back, letting Bor's body, or what was left of him, fall to the ground, splattering blood on the floor.

After another moment, the door to Bor's office opened again and a soldier appeared in the aisle. "Ma'am, is everything all right?"

"Bor is dead," Aisa took a step towards the soldier. Aisa doesn't know whether it was the smell of the office or the corpse, but the soldier looked uncomfortable. Tch, how green. "Tell groups A and B about the partial success of the operation."

At her command, the soldier saluted before leaving. "Ma'am, yes, ma'am."

So simply the life of the most influential person of Mount Glenn ends. Because the important thing here was not 'the most influential', but the 'person' part. Just a man of flesh and blood. Of ambition and emotion. Of thoughts and actions.

Bor considered himself invulnerable. He considered himself significant, that his shadow covered the world, and that it trembled in its wake. How foolish.

Everybody's mortal. Aisa knew this better than anyone.

Suddenly, Aisa coughed into her fist once, then again and again. As the rack of coughs stopped, she spits on the already ruined carpet. Pinkish saliva joined the pool of Bor's blood, a stream of blood that continued to flow. Aisa grinned mirthlessly.

Everybody's mortal. It is not given to anyone to know when he is going to die.

But they all have the right to act.

Bor preferred inaction. Alcohol and wallowing in regret.

The army had chosen to act. And so, right now, Group A was taking over the local government building. Group B stormed Mount Glenn Prison with the goal of freeing Creek. And Group C dealt with any remnants of Bor's forces. And lastly, dealing with Bor himself.

Most of Bor's allies and former friends had already escaped from Mount Glenn before the three captains managed to disable the communications tower and declared Martial Law, barring all flights. Those that had managed to escape were out of their reach, but some were captured and already interrogated for accomplices and all hidden resources. And as for Bor... they didn't need him.

And so, his road ends with a bullet. Nobody needed him anymore.

Bor's fate ends here.

Aisa pulled a cigarette out from her pack, lighting it and taking a drag, smirking as she walked away.

Night was falling on Mount Glenn.

***

Neo wasn't stupid. No, she wasn't stupid at all. She might not be able to do her multiplications, but she was very observant. The stupid did not survive on the street. Neo survived, and so Neo wasn't stupid.

Neo could feel what was happening at Mount Glenn better than anyone.

Something was coming. Something big and scary, something more dangerous than any fight she's ever been in.

Neo drew in a slow breath before taking a step back. It was three floors off of the ground... Easy!

Neo prepared herself, gathering her strength before rushing forward, then jumping onto the windowsill at the last moment as she reached the edge. And then, from the window toward the tree.

After a second of heart stopping free-fall, Neo's hands grabbed the branch of the tree. As she hung on the tree branch high off of the ground, she let go and acrobatically grabbed the next branch below her. Then another and another, until she landed safely on the ground, swaying slightly on her feet at the sudden stop.

Her current hideout was too unsafe. Unprotected, Neo shouldn't have stayed there.

Looking around her to see if anyone noticed her, Neo nodded and rushed forward.

She had been in this part of the city before, a couple of times she thinks… There was an excellent, abandoned house nearby with a basement and a metal door that could be locked from the inside. Neo even wanted to make this place her hideout, but did not have the chance as she met Jonathan before she could move in…

Neo sighed, well… if not for Jonathan, she would have immediately headed to this place. But, without supplies, it was useless.

And so Neo changed her destination. First, she would return to the foster home and take the blanket, a mattress, a mug and maybe even a cup… Everything material she had.

Neo smiled as she felt the fashion magazine rustle underneath her clothes, causing her to grin for a second before a sudden jolt knocked her off her feet.

For a second, Neo wondered what had happened, did she run into someone? Maybe she bumped into something while thinking about her magazine?

However, the jolt was repeated even when she was already on the ground. Then one more time, and again…

Neo blinked and looked at the ground in confusion.

The earth itself trembled.

***

Dr. Merlot held his head in his hands, staring forlornly at the table in front of him.

Sample Seven, attacked the scientists. Destroyed.

Sample One Hundred and Six, out of control. Destroyed.

Sample Three, did not respond to control attempts. Destroyed.

Reports after reports of experiments and projects failing.

Project A - losses: forty-two samples, seven scientists, two maintenance personnel.

Project B - losses: seven samples, twelve scientists, four maintenance personnel.

Project C - losses: three test subjects, one sample, four processed samples, one scientist.

Losses. Losses. Losses.

How?!

HOW IS THIS POSSIBLE ?!

Merlot had everything in hand! He had taken every necessary precaution!

These wretched half-educated people! It's all their fault! These idiots simply didn't use his brilliant invention right! Those bastards, those pathetic nonentities!

Merlot looked at the lists over and over and the pile of letters on his desk.

A dismissal letter, a notification of the official opening of a criminal case, and then Class action lawsuits.

Merlot didn't understand.

Isn't he doing his best for the good of Remnant ?! How could they not appreciate his work?! How can they not understand how much good he has done for Remnant?!

Since the days of the ancient Kingdoms preserved only in legends, the Grimm have been the greatest enemy of humanity, the enemy of all fauna even!

And it was he and only he who could put an end to such a threat!

He was the one destined to subdue the Grimm threat forever! The one to discover the truth about their nature, take control of them, and then turn them from enemies into an obedient instrument for the benefit of Humanity!

How could he fail!?

He knew everything about the Grimm! He had already controlled them! Not only that, but he had spent so many hours perfecting the formula! And now he… Failed!?

How could this happen?!

Merlot got up from his chair and uncorked a bottle of wine. But, before he could stand, a sharp jolt knocked him off his feet.

Merlot froze. Then another jolt knocked him down on his back. Then another jolt happened, and one more.

After the tremors ended, there was a sound of crunching and grinding. Like the sound of breaking glass…

Or metal.

A moment later, a red light suddenly lit up on Merlot's scroll, notifying him of yet another incident, forcing him, as soon as he got up, to grunt irritably in response as he accepted the call. "I'm listening."

"GRIMM!" There was a shout from the other end of the call. "THE GRIMM ARE FREE! THEY HAD MADE A TUNNEL! A HORDE OF GRIMM HAD RUN INTO THE-NO, NO, N…"

The connection was then suddenly cut with a loud crunch.

Merlot froze for a second.

The Grimm… are free?! The samples?! All the samples?!

And something like digging a tunnel… The Grimm are not smart enough to do such a thing! That is only possible when a…

Merlot froze. So it means… The rumors did not lie… A Super-horde... A Super-horde was attacking Mount Glenn...

Merlot froze. And somewhere in the distance he could hear a howl.

***

"What do you think?" The soldier handed a cigarette to his comrade, before lighting it up and then his own. "Is it true? The Super-horde, I mean?"

"How should I know?" His colleague took a drag of the cigarette, then sneezed. The night is getting chilly. "I am of the same rank as you."

"That's why I asked what you 'think', and not what you 'know'" The first soldier rolled his eyes, then turned away, leaning his back against a turret. "And anyway, give it up. All the senior officers are gone now, along with the captains."

As if not completely believing in the veracity of his comrade's words, the second soldier looked around before exhaling, his breath steaming. "I have no idea, and I advise you to stop asking about this."

"Come on," The first soldier took a breath, then lit another cigarette, his previous one nothing more than ashes. "On this site, there's only you and me and maybe... damn, I have no idea if there's anyone else. But if you look, there's only ten of us on the wall now, or maybe twenty. The rest from the garrison were taken by the captains. No one will report you."

At these words, the second situation only sighed before taking a drag. "Yeah, no."

"Okay, okay, mister 'I can't support even a small dialogue'" The first soldier turned away for a second, looking into the distance as he enjoyed his cigarette. He then blinked as he spotted something unusual. "Ha!?"

"What do you want again?" The second soldier turned in his direction. "I already said, I don't know anything about…"

Then the second soldier blinked at the first. The first's gaze was fixed on a point ahead in the darkness. Frowning, the second soldier followed his gaze before bumping into what the first soldier had seen.

There was silence for a second before a cigarette slowly dropped from the soldier's weakened fingers.

"I... You... Can you see it? " The first soldier blinked numbly, looking at the approaching Grimm.

"Yeah," The second answered, still numb from the shock. "I can."

An instant later, a jolt knocked the soldiers off of their feet. Then another, and another, both of the soldiers could feel the wall ground under them shaking violently.

There was silence for a moment again before a scream rang through the silent night.

"A HORDE! A HORDE OF GRIMM IS COMING!" The cry of a soldier in the distance pierced the silent night. "SOUND THE ALARM!"

An instant later, the slow hum of sirens can be heard echoing throughout the city.

***

A thunderstorm begins with lightning, but lightning can be so invisible. An instant flash of light that disappears after a hundredth of a second. You can blink and miss it.

But not thunder. The ringing of thunder is impossible to miss. Slow and rolling, it appears much later than a flash of lightning, as if announcing to the world the lightning strike. As if a confirmation of the onset of a thunderstorm.

Thunder is not as instantaneous and as bright as lightning… But thunder cannot be missed.

And a ringing thunder echoed across Mount Glenn, joining the screech of hundreds of sirens as it went.

***

Cinder fell from her bed as the first jolt of tremor struck her. As she was knocked awake, she tried her best to grab on to the sofa, expecting another jolt from the earthquake.

Jonathan was instantly beside her, stretching his hand out to her. And Cinder instantly let go of the sofa, hugging Jonathan instead, seeking protection in his arms.

The tremors finally stopped for a second, before Cinder heard a rumble in the distance.

It was a measured hum, something one would hear at an airport announcing a flight delay. Or maybe at a school if the principal decided to convey an announcement to all the students…

But this hum was different. Something… there was something about it.

The volume, maybe. The hum sounded loud, piercing through the closed doors and windows, into people's apartments.

Perhaps it was its duration. It was not a short announcement, but a long hum, a siren whose purpose was to attract attention.

Or perhaps the fact that it sounded from all over the city.

The siren lasted one second, then a second, a third… A dozen seconds later, the hum suddenly stopped, after which, Cinder heard a loud voice. A female one, pleasant perhaps in other conditions, where the news she brings is not so dire. She spoke loudly, clearly and distinctly, her even tone betraying her true nature as a robot, causing nervousness by the very fact of her tone of voice.

"RESIDENTS. OF. MOUNTAIN. GLENN. PLEASE. GO. TO. THE. NEAREST. SHELTER."

Speaking each word distinctly, the voice continued to speak. "RIGHT. NOW. A. HORDE. OF. GRIMM. IS. APPROACHING. DANGER. LEVEL. NINE."

After that, the siren fell silent as unexpectedly as it began, after which Cinder looked up, meeting Jonathan's eyes.

In his eyes she saw… Everything.

"So…" Jonathan said, his lips barely moving. "It has begun."

Then the siren started again, each time repeating what was said again.

On the night of October 1 nearing the dawn of October 2, a Super-horde attacked Mount Glenn.

From the moment Jonathan Goodman found himself in such a new, so unfamiliar world.

It has been.

Eight weeks.