By the seventh month, the pattern was no longer subtle.
Tier‑3s—the big ones—were becoming a constant, unwelcome rhythm.
In Sunview, most people only noticed the aftermath: walls pockmarked by heavy fire, sirens still echoing in empty streets, the hushed warnings in the news feed.
But elsewhere, the world was shifting faster, and the reports trickled in like the tide before a storm.
Rael sat cross-legged on the floor of the orphanage common room, the static hum of the news feed filling the space between the children's soft breathing. Every so often, Nyla glanced up from her inventory notes, frowning at the screen as another live feed cut through the monotony.
"Another one?" she muttered.
"Tier‑3," Rael said as the feed showed a coastal military base on another continent.
A Tier‑3 had appeared in a shallow cove. It moved with deliberate strength, sweeping aside barricades and sending splintered wood and concrete into the water.
Soldiers fired continuously, their weapons vomiting fire and smoke, but the creature barely slowed. Then, suddenly, it submerged.
Rael leaned forward.
"They—" he began, but Nyla's hand on his shoulder stopped him.
"Don't get caught staring. That's how the stories get in your head."
He nodded. The stories were already in his head.
By mid‑month, media reports covered a few in which they confirmed: portals weren't limited to islands or mountains. They appeared in the middle of the ocean.
Advanced reconnaissance parties—naval and research units—had been dispatched to track them. When they arrived, they found something stranger: monsters emerged not to spread inland, but to gather, almost like colonies, surrounding the portals.
Warships and submarines were sent on sweep-and-bombard missions. Explosions shook the waves, waters roiling with fire and shrapnel.
The reports were clinical: casualties, destroyed creatures, minor environmental impact.
The civilians who read the headlines saw only "successful neutralization of hostile entities."
The reality was darker. The ocean itself had become a battlefield, but not a permanent one. No one held the portals; they cleaned and retreated.
Rael watched a map scroll across the feed: dozens of red dots, each representing a portal, each a growing cluster of monsters. He couldn't understand the scale, couldn't picture the distances, but the map's visual gravity pressed against his chest.
"They…"
Rael trailed off, eyes fixed on the screen.
The red dots weren't scattered. They were clumped. Pressed together.
"Of course they are," Maven replied at the side. He didn't look up from the plate in his hands.
"Random isn't this coordinated. We're seeing patterns now. Logistics. Strategy. They come together, they attack in phases. Everything else before… it was just reconnaissance."
Sunview felt removed, distant. Even though the city had seen quite a few of these Tier‑3s, Because of unusually strong military presence near sunview portal the orphanage, far enough inland, stayed untouched.
He thought of the children asleep in the darkened rooms above him. He thought of the distant waves and the unseen portals under the ocean. And he thought of the reports, carefully phrased, carefully filtered, but never quite able to hide the truth.
It was few days later that something happened that grounded the grim reality for everyone, Maerikh, a hillside town 150 kilometers from Sunview, became the first fall due to the sudden appearance of five Tier‑3s—one unusually large, capable of healing the others— forced the local defence line into retreat.
Rael sat cross-legged in the dim light of the orphanage, Nyla beside him, listening to the static-laced broadcasts. The tone was measured, but the words betrayed urgency.
"Defence lines at Maerikh have collapsed. Evacuation underway," the reporter said under the background noise fighter jets arriving at the scene.
Then sudden cheers startled Rael.
Not just the children — Nyla, Lian, even Maven looked caught off guard.
Jets screamed across the broadcast sky, fast and low.
Too many of them.
Although, startled his focus quickly shifted to the TV.
"-according to our sources, after the full assault of solvar Air force, The monsters have been nuterlized-"
" - solvar government under the increasing pressure of 'chaos beast' has decided to evacuate Maerikh-"
" -protest are happening, in Maerikh and it's nearby regions, public anxiety level rising continuously -"
" - government claims, severe casualties and equipment damage as reason for the abandonment of Maerikh-"
" - our expert analysis state Maerikh being 'not important enough ' being the main reason for government withdral of troops under pressure -"
" - evacues distributed in nearby towns, sunview is expected to receive a major part-"
" - more reinforcement are expected to arrive at sunview-"
"- General rayfort being accused of partiality -"
" - Government silence upon accusations hungs heavily over public -"
" - expected large increase in no. of monsters going for-"
Each statement lead to increase the heaviness in the orphanage, the children worried about being abandoned like Maerikh while the caretakers worried about the upcoming refugees.
Days passed and refugees arrived in batches, Rael was now forbidden from going outside, even for the supply run, there are rising number of conflict happening between locals and refugees at the distribution centres. From what he heard from the among caretakers the situation still better here at sunview compared to other small town outside. The Rayfort family is using its personal funds and their connections to keep supplies in stock.
Rael had heard multiple times caretakers praising that family, apparently one of the founders of Dawnrise belong that family.
Another morning another routine,
"wake up everyone, washrooms, now" came the same voice Rael had gotten use to for the last nine months. Even in the current situation where world seems to be falling apart, caretakers of their little sanctuary still keeps nagging about mundane things.
A collective groan rose from the beds.
Blankets shifted. Someone rolled over only to bump into another body and yelp in protest.
"I was already awake," Tarin muttered from under his blanket. "I just had my eyes closed in protest."
Rael pushed himself up on one elbow, blinking against the dim emergency lights.
Ren was sprawled sideways across two blankets, one sock missing, face pressed into Rael's shoulder like it had been intentional.
He carefully nudged him. "Hey. Washrooms."
Ren groaned. "Five more minutes."
"You said that yesterday," Rael murmured.
"And it worked."
It hadn't.
Along the far wall, Nyla was already on her feet, hair tied back, clipboard under one arm.
She didn't raise her voice. She didn't need to.
"Up," she said. "Everyone. We're already behind."
That did it.
Movement rippled through the hall. Kids sat up, stood, shuffled toward the washroom line with practiced resignation. No one asked why. No one argued anymore.
To Rael, it almost felt like a normal morning but by the time everyone started, TV once again slammed the reality on his head.
Tier‑3s were no longer occasional horrors; they came in swarms, sometimes five or six in a single wave.
Every new map update showed towns emptied, defensive posts collapsed, roads clogged with vehicles and foot traffic. Sunview was a rare bright dot of stability in an otherwise bruised landscape.
"-Another wave -"
"- 7 t3s has been spotted, and-"
Change the channel it's still the same
" -tension and conflict -"
"-martial law issued -"
" - attributed to chaos energy influence -"
" - reports of prisoners escape -"
The news kept running. Town names blurred together.
"Will they come here?" asked Miko voice trembling and uncertain if it was monsters or prisoners.
"They won't get in," Rael said, trying to sound certain.
The city outside was holding, yes, but a lot more was crumbling. Towns with non strategic location or some solid importance, now abandoned became gathering grounds for monsters. Tier‑3s, once rare, now gathered around unattended portals, growing more and more numerous. Every retreat, every collapse, fed the creatures' numbers.
Back on Earth, this was the part where people started talking about nukes.
End-of-the-line weapons.
The kind you didn't bring up unless everything else had already failed
During one particularly long day, a convoy passed near the orphanage, carrying soldiers from recent battle.Their vehicles were battered, tires shredded, paint scorched by fire. Soldiers' faces were gaunt, eyes hollow.
Rael watched the convoy disappear and understood why the broadcasts never lingered on faces.
By the eleventh month, the world was no longer just retreating—it was preparing for something worse. News trickled in from every corner of Aetherglow: defensive lines near portals were being hammered by Tier‑3s in coordinated waves. Towns that had survived six months of assaults were now abandoned. Roads that once connected communities were clogged with refugees, overturned vehicles, and abandoned equipment.
By the twelfth month, the pressure intensified. Tier‑3 waves increased not just in frequency, but in coordinated severity. Air raids struck portals repeatedly, yet monsters continued to emerge, seemingly undeterred. The concept of abandoned portals no longer meant safety; it meant breeding grounds. Every unattended portal now harbored dozens of Tier‑3s.
Next morning,Rael woke up before Liam's call.
That, by itself, wasn't unusual . Sleep has been thin for months, But this time, i wasn't noise or a nightmare that pulled him up,it was a weird feeling. A quiet, persistent weight sitting somewhere behind his eyes.
For a moment, he lay still on the thin mattress, staring at the dim ceiling of the common hall.
The children around him were asleep.
Blankets rose and fell. Someone muttered in their dreams. The night light hummed softly, steady and unchanged.
Everything looked the same.
His heartbeat echoed in his head.
He sat up slowly.
Careful.
Ren hadn't moved.
Rael looked down at his hands.
They felt wrong.
He frowned
The morning routine remained the same.
Washrooms.
Rations.
Roll call.
Rael followed along.
The feeling didn't fade.
While brushing his teeth, he paused, staring at his own reflection, half-expecting something to be wrong.
Nothing was.
Breakfast tasted bland but he forced himself to eat .
The news feed was already running by the time everyone settled in, low volume but running—a habit now, like keeping an eye on a wound to make sure it hasn't started bleeding again.
Rael tried to focus on the children instead.
On Ren, arguing over a torn blanket.
On Miko whispering to Tarin about rumors she heard from a volunteer.
On the small, stubborn normalcy they cling to.
Then it happened, the broadcast changed, catching Rael's attention towards the portal shown in the TV.
"This again....."