Dawn at the bastion felt different.The wind carried a strange whisper, as if nature itself were murmuring warnings in a forgotten language.Rob woke up before everyone else, as usual, and made his way to the natural lookout built atop the central hill.
From there, he could see the vastness of his creation: the bastion, solid like a promise beneath the uncertain sky.But he also saw beyond it: in the distance, the world looked... twisted.As if a painting, still beautiful, was beginning to crack.
The confirmation didn't take long to arrive.
The news exploded like gunpowder:
Major earthquakes simultaneously striking Japan, California, and Turkey.
Historic floods in Florida, Southeast Asia, and parts of Central Europe.
Impossible weather: fierce snowstorms in the middle of summer in Australia; scorching heatwaves in Canada.
Infrastructure was collapsing.Governments were declaring Global States of Emergency one after another.Communications were beginning to fail: massive power outages, networks crashing, satellites becoming inoperative.
Rob gathered the bastion's council that very afternoon.
—"This is only the beginning,"—he said gravely—"What's coming will be worse. Much worse."
The room was silent.Everyone knew, deep inside, that the clock of normalcy had stopped ticking.
Rob's response was immediate:
Daily emergency drills: internal evacuation, sector lockdowns, fire response, intrusion protocols.
Formation of brigades:
- Security and defense.
- First aid and medicine.
- Agriculture and energy maintenance.
- Internal search and rescue.
Physical training: adults and older teenagers participated in endurance routines, basic combat training, and survival tool handling.
Every minute was precious.Every member of the bastion now had a vital role.
But fear was also growing.Some people suffered anxiety attacks.Others questioned if they had made the right decision by moving there.
Victoria, always the calming soul, organized emotional support meetings, collective talks, and containment groups.
Rob faced his own anxiety... in silence.He was the leader.He couldn't afford to falter.
One special night, after an exhausting day of training and repairs, Rob took Matthew and little Amélie to one of the most remote observation platforms.
The sky, filled with stars, seemed vaster than ever.And more fragile.
Matthew sat beside Rob, silently watching.
—"Dad... are we going to be okay?"—he asked, his voice trembling slightly.
Rob looked at him.He saw in him the boy he once was, and the man he would someday become.
—"I can't promise it will be easy,"—Rob said, with brutal honesty—"But I promise I'll do everything in my power to protect you. And your sister. And everyone."
Matthew lowered his gaze, fighting back tears.
Rob hugged him tightly.
—"Being brave doesn't mean not being afraid, son. It means moving forward despite the fear. Do you know why we're fighting so hard now?"
Matthew shook his head.
Rob gently stroked Amélie's hair as she slept in his arms.
—"Because she deserves to see a world where families still exist. Where hope still exists."
Matthew looked at his little sister and, with a solemn gesture, nodded.
At that moment, Rob knew his son understood.Not everything, but enough.
Two days later, Rob and Alan were on a routine patrol around the outer perimeter.
It was Alan who saw it first:A deer—or what had once been a deer—standing by the woods.
It was massive, disproportionate.Its antlers seemed to twist like writhing snakes.Its eyes gleamed with an unnatural light, as if life itself had been corrupted.
When it saw them, it didn't flee.It attacked.
Rob and Alan, armed and trained, managed to bring it down—but not without difficulty.
Inspecting the carcass, Rob felt a chill run down his spine.The mutated creature's flesh seemed to vibrate slightly, as if the corruption that had altered it still clung desperately to existence.
This wasn't a natural phenomenon.The very essence of the planet was beginning to change.
That night, while the bastion slept, Rob returned to the lookout.
And he saw something that froze the blood in his veins.
On the horizon, the stars seemed to... tear.Like tiny cracks in the fabric of the sky.
Flashes of anomalous lights flickered intermittently.
The distortion was no longer just on Earth.It was in the very structure of reality.
Rob clenched his fists.
—"Whoever you are..."—he murmured toward the sky—"You may come for this world.But you'll have to get through us first."