It didn't take long for the alarms to reach the quiet rooms behind governments. Not the sirens on the streets, but the silent ones. The kind that lived inside servers, whispered through satellites, and buzzed behind encrypted doors.
Inside a concrete room six floors beneath the Pentagon, five men and women in grey suits stared at a holographic projection of the Eclipse Online UI.
"This," one of them muttered, "shouldn't exist."
A pause.
"And yet it does," said another.
A security feed from Germany played on loop. A teenager leapt fifteen feet into the air, dodged a car, and landed without injury. Another clip followed from Nigeria—a woman stopped a mugging by forming what looked like a digital shield mid-panic. Tokyo. Cairo. Santiago. New York. More clips. More anomalies.
Every single one had the same thing in common.
Eclipse Online.
"Project Iris is awake," someone whispered. "It's not just affecting cognition. It's rewriting neurology."
