The Fallout Begins
The wind howled through the trees, carrying more than just the scent of rain. It carried the sound of something breaking.
Inside the cabin, Ivy Mae kept checking the radio, fingers tapping against the wooden table. Static. Then, suddenly—
A voice.
“…emergency measures… tariffs imposed… retaliatory sanctions…”
Jas sucked in a breath. It was happening.
They turned up the volume.
“—following President Trump’s emergency tariffs, the Canadian dollar continues to surge, crossing $4.44 to $1 USD. Panic grips Wall Street as financial markets free-fall. In Washington, the president has reportedly—”
A burst of static. Then a new voice.
“…chaos at U.S. airports as wealthy elites attempt to flee…”
“…bank runs in major cities…”
“…mass resignations across the Treasury…”
Jas looked at Ivy Mae. Vanished: Chronicles of the Billionaires’ Exodus lay open on the table.
"The pattern repeats: economic collapse, vanishing fortunes, engineered distractions."
It was playing out exactly as written.
A gust of wind slammed against the windows. Another voice cut through the radio.
Trump.
His voice was panicked, barely coherent over the transmission.
“This is a national emergency! I invoked the IEEPA to protect Americans, and now—this betrayal by Canada—"
Static. A sharp click. The radio cut to another station.
“—widespread protests in major U.S. cities after last night’s speech—”
“—Canadian officials have dismissed accusations of economic warfare—”
“—Mar-a-Lago declared a restricted zone—”
Another boom in the sky.
Jas barely had time to process it before Ivy Mae grabbed their arm.
"We need to get underground. Now."
Jas hesitated, looking back at the book, at the radio, at the growing storm outside.
Then came the final transmission—short, broken, but undeniable.
“…they’re leaving…”
The billionaires. The politicians. The ones who had set all this in motion.
They had started to disappear.
And the rest of the world?
The world was left to fight over the ruins.
To be continued…