FEB 28…MARKET CRASH… GLOBAL MARKETS IN FREEFALL… MASS SELLOFFS… BANKS SHUTTING DOWN… OLIGARCHS LOSE MINDS… LIVES LOST… ELON FIRST TO—
The words fractured into bursts of distortion, swallowed by frantic voices, then a high-pitched whine. Roman grabbed the radio, shaking it, but the only response was more crackling.
Then, through the static, a single phrase:
"They didn’t think we’d do it."
A pulse of cold air swept through the cabin. Ivy Mae wrapped her arms around herself. “Okay… that was weird.”
Jas didn’t move. They could still see it—the headlines flashing red, stock tickers frozen mid-collapse, news anchors white-knuckling their desks. Images of men in suits staring hollow-eyed at their shattered empires, the same way they must have in 1930. The way they did when power slipped through their fingers, when fortunes evaporated overnight.
But this time, it wasn’t a system failure. It was a choice.
February 28th had passed, and the world had felt the weight of what it meant when people refused to play the game. The crash had rippled across continents.
Not just money—power itself had cracked.
A deep hum rumbled beneath the floorboards. The crack in the cabin’s foundation widened, splintering outward. The earth itself seemed to be holding its breath.
Ivy Mae’s voice was tight. “We should go. Now.”
Roman nodded but hesitated, eyes locked on the radio. The static shifted, warping, stretching. Then, through the white noise, a voice.
"Elon is…"
Silence.
Jas swallowed hard. The past was bleeding into the present. The future was folding in on itself.
And they weren’t sure they were ready for what came next.