Day 85-86 Post-Impact
The Malaysian Emergency Council's response came faster than expected.
Two days after the Singapore victory, a convoy of military vehicles rolled through Harmony's gates. Not the small delegation they'd sent before with Captain Hassan as liaison. This was a full diplomatic mission. Three armored transports, two supply trucks, and a command vehicle flying both the MCF flag and something new: a white banner with a gold star that Sarnav didn't recognize.
"The Council's official banner," Zara explained, standing beside him at the gate. She'd slipped back into professional mode easily, though the way she stood slightly closer to him than protocol demanded told its own story. "They only fly it for formal state functions. This is serious."
"Should I be worried?"
"Depends on what you want." She watched the convoy approach. "They're here to negotiate. The question is what they're willing to offer."
The vehicles rolled to a stop in formation, engines cutting off in sequence. Doors opened and soldiers emerged, taking up positions with practiced efficiency. Not threatening, but clearly demonstrating capability.
Colonel Hassan emerged from the command vehicle first. He looked older than Sarnav remembered, the weight of leadership visible in the lines around his eyes. But he moved with purpose as he approached, hand extended.
"Commander Vale. Congratulations on your victory."
Sarnav shook his hand. "Colonel. This is unexpected."
"The Council moves quickly when properly motivated." Hassan glanced at his daughter, something complicated passing between them. "Captain. Good to see you in one piece."
"Father."
"We'll talk later." He turned back to Sarnav. "The Council has authorized me to discuss formal integration of Harmony into the Malaysian defense network. Full partnership, shared resources, mutual protection agreements."
"That's quite a change from 'independent observation.'"
"You defeated an S-rank enemy and secured an alliance with Singapore's largest survivor group. The Council would be foolish not to recognize what you've built here." Hassan's expression remained neutral, but there was respect in his voice. "We're not fools, Commander."
The negotiations took place in the main hall, the same space where the Singapore alliance had been formalized just days before. Tables had been arranged in a formal configuration, with Harmony's leadership on one side and the government delegation on the other.
Chen Wei handled the military details, his gruff competence perfectly suited to discussing patrol routes, response times, and resource allocation. He'd spread maps across the table and was walking the government officers through current defensive positions.
"We've established a perimeter of twelve kilometers around the compound," Chen Wei explained. "Regular patrols every four hours, overlapping coverage at night. Since the Singapore operation, we've added two observation posts here and here." He tapped the map. "Any large-scale approach will be detected at least thirty minutes before arrival."
"Impressive for a civilian operation," one of the government officers noted.
"We stopped being civilians the day the sky broke open," Chen Wei replied flatly.
Mythili managed the legal framework, her courtroom experience lending weight to every clause and condition. She'd prepared documents in advance, anticipating most of the government's requests and building in protections for Harmony's autonomy.
"Article Seven guarantees Harmony's right to accept or refuse specific mission requests," she said, sliding a page across to Hassan's legal advisor. "We're allies, not subordinates. That distinction needs to be clear."
"The Council may object to such broad discretion."
"The Council can object all they want. Without this clause, there's no deal."
Sarnav sat at the head of the table, listening more than speaking, letting his people do what they did best. It was a skill he'd learned early in the apocalypse: surround yourself with competent people and get out of their way.
The terms took shape over hours of discussion. Harmony would maintain autonomy over internal affairs, but gain access to government supply lines, intelligence networks, and military support. In exchange, they'd assist with regional security operations and share information about awakened threats.
"We're particularly interested in your cultivation techniques," one of Hassan's advisors said during a break in the main negotiations. The man was thin, academic-looking, with the hungry eyes of a researcher. "The system you've developed appears to be unique. If we could study it..."
"The system isn't shareable," Sarnav cut in. "It's part of me. There's nothing to study that would help others replicate it."
"Surely some aspects could be documented. The bonding process, the power sharing mechanisms..."
"Dr. Tan." Hassan's voice carried warning. "The Commander's abilities are not on the table. We discussed this."
"But Colonel, the scientific implications alone..."
"Are not on the table." Hassan's tone left no room for argument. "Move on."
The researcher subsided, though his eyes lingered on Sarnav with undisguised curiosity. It was a reminder that not everyone in the government saw Harmony as a partner. Some saw it as a resource to be exploited, a phenomenon to be studied and potentially replicated.
Sarnav filed that away for future consideration.
By late afternoon, the major points had been settled. The alliance would be formalized in a signing ceremony the following morning. Harmony would be recognized as an autonomous allied territory, with all the protections and responsibilities that entailed.
"There's one more matter," Hassan said as the formal session wound down. The other delegates had been dismissed, leaving only the Colonel, Sarnav, and a few key personnel. "Intelligence from our northern contacts."
"The Ascendancy?"
"What's left of them." Hassan produced a folder from his briefcase, thicker than Sarnav expected. "The Sovereign's retreat caused significant disruption. Their conversion operations have stalled. Several subordinate commanders have broken away to form independent factions. But the core leadership remains intact, and they're not happy about losing Singapore."
Sarnav took the folder and opened it. Reports, surveillance photos, intercepted communications. Threat assessments and movement patterns. One name appeared repeatedly, circled in red ink on multiple pages.
Elena Volkov.
"Their top assassin," Hassan continued. "Russian, former special operations before the impact. Awakened to S-rank Shadow Arts in the first wave. She's been with the Ascendancy since they formed, one of their founding members. Responsible for at least fifteen confirmed kills of high-value targets."
The photo showed a woman in her mid-twenties, platinum blonde hair pulled back severely, ice blue eyes staring at the camera with absolutely no expression. This wasn't a posed shot. It was surveillance, taken without her knowledge, and she still looked like she could kill whoever was behind the lens.
"Background?" Sarnav asked.
"Russian military intelligence, FSB special operations division. Recruited at sixteen, trained as an infiltrator and wetwork specialist. When the impact happened, she was on assignment in Southeast Asia. The Ascendancy found her within the first week."
"Or she found them."
"Possibly. Either way, she's been their primary solution for problems that can't be solved through direct confrontation." Hassan leaned forward. "She's killed faction leaders, military commanders, awakened who threatened their expansion. Always alone, always successful, always gone before anyone realizes what happened."
"And they're sending her here."
"Our sources indicate she departed their northern base three days ago. Traveling alone, which is her preference. Expected arrival in this region within the next forty-eight hours."
Sarnav studied the photo again. The emptiness in those eyes wasn't natural. It was constructed, built layer by layer over years of training and trauma. He'd seen that look before, on people who'd been hurt so badly they'd forgotten how to feel.
"Why warn us? This seems like information you could have kept to yourself."
"Because we're partners now." Hassan's voice was steady. "And because I'd rather see her captured than killed. Elena Volkov has information about Ascendancy operations that could save thousands of lives. Their base locations, their conversion techniques, their expansion plans. Everything."
"You want me to turn her."
"I've seen your file, Commander. Your results speak for themselves." Hassan gestured vaguely toward the compound. "Nine wives, all of them loyal, all of them powerful in their own right. You have a talent for finding value in people others would discard. The Volkov woman is dangerous, but she's also a weapon. Right now, she's pointed at you. I'm suggesting you consider pointing her somewhere else."
After the delegation departed to their temporary quarters, Sarnav gathered his inner circle in the command center. Chen Wei and Mythili joined the nine wives around the central table, Elena Volkov's file spread between them.
"S-rank Shadow Arts," Ishani said, studying the photo with professional interest. "That's significant. At that level, she can probably phase through solid objects, at least briefly. Standard security measures won't stop her."
"What about non-standard measures?" Chen Wei asked.
"Light helps. Shadow users are weakened in bright conditions, though at S-rank she'll still be dangerous. Barriers might slow her down." Ishani's constructs flickered to life around her fingers. "I can illuminate the compound, but I can't cover every shadow. There are limits to what even I can do."
"I can track her digital presence," Jade offered. "But if she's as good as this file suggests, she won't have one. No phone, no implants, nothing electronic that could be traced."
"What about probability?" Sarnav looked at Serena. "Can you sense her coming?"
"Maybe." Serena's brow furrowed in concentration. "Assassination attempts create distinctive probability patterns. The moment someone commits to killing, the future branches in specific ways. But I'd need to be actively scanning, and I can't maintain that level of focus indefinitely."
"The network will help," Sana said quietly. "We'll all feel if something's wrong. That's nine people watching instead of one."
"She'll know about the network," Zara pointed out. "Any intelligence worth the name would have told her how you operate. She'll try to neutralize that advantage somehow."
"How?" Minji asked.
"Isolation. Distraction. Attacking when the network is stressed or fragmented." Zara's military training was evident in her analysis. "If she's smart, she won't come for Sarnav directly. She'll target someone else first. Draw him out, catch him when he's emotional and vulnerable."
"Who would she target?" Jiyeon asked.
"Any of us," Jade answered. "Kill one wife, he comes running. Simple mathematics."
The room went quiet. Through the network, Sarnav felt his wives processing that reality. Not fear exactly, but heightened awareness. The knowledge that they were all potential targets.
"We double the patrols," he said finally. "Every approach illuminated, every shadow watched. Pairs at all times, no one alone. The network stays alert, everyone reports anything unusual immediately."
"And if she gets through anyway?" Ananya asked.
"Then we take her together. She's one person, even at S-rank. We're ten, plus Chen Wei's security forces, plus whatever help the government can provide." Sarnav looked around the table. "We've beaten worse odds."
"You've beaten worse odds," Nisha corrected gently. "We just helped."
"Same thing."
The meeting broke up as people moved to implement the defensive measures. Sarnav remained behind, studying the file, trying to understand the woman who was coming to kill him.
Elena Volkov. Twenty-six years old. Recruited by Russian intelligence as a teenager, trained to kill before she was old enough to vote. The file listed her confirmed operations, each one a life ended with clinical precision. But between the lines, Sarnav saw something else.
She'd never had a choice. From the moment the FSB identified her potential, her path had been set. Kill or be killed. Obey or suffer. The Ascendancy hadn't changed that equation, just the people giving orders.
What would someone like that do if offered a different option?
He found Nisha in her garden later that evening, surrounded by plants that seemed to lean toward her touch. The vegetation had grown significantly since the impact, nurtured by her nature magic into abundant food sources that helped feed the compound's growing population.
"You're worried," she said without looking up.
"An S-rank assassin is coming to kill me. Worried seems appropriate."
"You've faced worse." She finally turned, soil on her hands, peace in her eyes despite the circumstances. "The entity in the rift was stronger. The Sovereign was stronger. You're still here."
"Those were fights. This is different. She won't challenge me openly. She'll wait, watch, strike when I'm not expecting it."
"Then don't let her." Nisha stood, brushing dirt from her knees. "You have nine wives now. Nine people who would notice if something was wrong. Use us."
"I won't put you in danger."
"We're already in danger. We chose this." She stepped closer, her hand finding his. "Stop trying to protect us from everything. We're not helpless. Let us be strong for you."
He pulled her close, breathing in the scent of earth and growing things that always clung to her. His first wife. The one who'd started it all.
"I love you," he said quietly.
"I know." She smiled against his chest. "Now come inside. Worrying won't help, and I can think of better ways to spend the evening."
Six hundred kilometers north, Elena Volkov moved through the darkness like she was part of it.
She traveled at night, resting during the day in whatever shelter she could find. Abandoned buildings, dense forest, once a drainage culvert beneath a collapsed highway. Comfort didn't matter. Only the mission.
Her supplies were minimal. Water, rations, a change of clothes. No electronics, nothing that could be tracked. The Ascendancy had offered support teams, extraction plans, backup options. She'd refused them all.
She worked alone. Always had, always would.
The target was unusual. Not a politician or general or rival faction leader, the usual jobs. This was something different. A young man who'd built a power base from nothing, who'd defeated an S-rank enemy in direct combat, who commanded loyalty through means the Ascendancy didn't understand.
Sarnav Vale. Twenty-three years old. A-rank cultivator with some kind of system that let him draw power from emotional bonds. Nine wives, each one an awakened with her own abilities. A network that functioned like a single organism, aware and reactive.
She'd memorized every detail the briefing contained. His fighting style, his known abilities, the layout of his compound. The women he'd bonded with, their powers, their relationships. Everything that might be a weakness.
But the more she studied, the less she understood.
The footage from Singapore had been particularly confusing. She'd watched it dozens of times, trying to comprehend what she was seeing. The way his wives fought around him, not as subordinates but as partners. The way they moved together without apparent communication, anticipating each other's actions.
It wasn't control. She knew what control looked like, had experienced it firsthand in the training facilities where they'd made her what she was. This was something else.
It looked almost like trust.
She pushed the thought away. Sentiment was weakness. She'd learned that lesson early, carved into her flesh by instructors who believed pain was the best teacher. Trust got you killed. Love was just a weapon others used against you.
She had a job to do. The Ascendancy was paying enough to make it worth her while. After this, maybe she'd finally have enough to disappear. Find some corner of the ruined world where no one knew her name.
Forty hours until she reached the compound.
She'd scout it first, identify weaknesses, find the gaps in their security. They'd be expecting her, of course. The government had sources inside the Ascendancy, everyone knew that. But knowing she was coming and stopping her were two different things.
No one had ever stopped her before.
She melted into the shadows and continued south, trying not to think about the way those women looked at their husband. Trying not to wonder what it would feel like to have someone look at her that way.
She failed.
[DAY 86]
[WIFE COUNT: 9/32]
[ESSENCE: 954,100 / 1,000,000]
[GOVERNMENT ALLIANCE: FORMALIZED]
[THREAT INCOMING: ELENA VOLKOV]
[ETA: 40 HOURS]
[NEXT: ASSASSIN]