RESIDENCE-3RD Floor
Across from him, she sat with sleeves rolled up, hair braided, a scar on her jaw. She never explained it.
"You're staring," she said, raising one eyebrow as she poured him water.
He tried to smile. "I've forgotten what food looks like."
"You've forgotten what eating looks like," she corrected, sliding the plate closer. "Your staff told me you skipped breakfast, both coffees, and half a bottle of water."
"I had a briefing."
"You always have a briefing." She leaned in slightly. "You need to eat."
Despite not arguing, the truth was painful for him; a reminder of Gregory's death. Nadia noticed it. She let the silence settle between them like something they shared.
For five blessed seconds, he was simply a husband, a father who had survived another morning, and a man sitting across from the woman who had once pulled him out of a Warzone with her bare hands and told him to stop trying to die.
Then the knock came.
Elias exhaled. "There goes lunch."
Nadia closed her eyes once, before answering the door. "Come in."
Catherine Voss burst in energetically. Chief of Staff Marcus Hale, with a loosened tie, and the stern General Holt were behind her.
"Sir," Catherine said, skipping all preambles, "we have a situation."
Nadia moved behind Elias instinctively.
Elias rose slowly. "Of course, we do. What now?"
Marcus Hale laid a tablet on the table. "Cascadian Northern Grid just went offline."
Elias felt his pulse quicken. "All of it?"
"All of it," Holt confirmed. "Half the northern provinces. Cities up to the Alabaster Sound. Hospitals, transit, comms, water purification—everything."
Nadia's gaze sharpened. "Natural failure?"
Catherine shook her head. "It's deliberate. Someone broke into the Cascadian Digital Spine at three points at once. It's coordinated, and it's fast."
Elias's jaw tightened. "Viper?"
"We don't know," Catherine said, "but the timing is violent."
Elias stared at the untouched food and felt a dark feeling. His life had no room for meals outside briefings. No room to breathe.
He turned away from the table. "Hearth Room. Ten minutes. Bring the heads of Grid Security, Cybernet, Treasury, and Homeland Power."
"Yes, sir," Catherine said, already tapping her comm.
Nadia's touch was a grounding pressure on his arm. "Elias said," Before you go—"
He paused. He knew that voice. Her marriage softened her usual battle voice.
"Whoever did this wants you unstable," she said. "They want you reacting, not leading."
"I don't have the luxury of taking my time."
"You have the responsibility to think." Her eyes held him, steady and unflinching. "And to eat something. A leader who collapses is a leader who gets replaced."
He huffed out a breath, almost a smile. "I thought you weren't scared."
Her expression flickered. "I'm not. But I know what happens to nations when men skip meals during crises. I've seen it."
He reached out and touched her waist briefly—an apology, a promise, a thank-you.
Marcus coughed into his hand, uncomfortable. "Sir… time is—"
"I know, Marcus."
Elias straightened, slipping into the mantle of a man who didn't have the right to grieve yet.
"Let's move."
***
The room resembled the inside of a command vessel: screens, maps of districts, schematics, and urgent warnings.
Elias was the first to go in. Voss, Hale, and Holt went after him. Though not staff, Nadia hovered by the door, the most attentive person there.
A Grid Security official began speaking too fast. "Mr. President, nodes are down across Alabaster, Pinebelt, the Northern Cape—"
Elias lifted a hand. "Slow down. Speak like you want to be understood."
The man gulped and made another attempt. "We had a triple failure of our primary substations."
"Cascadian?" Elias asked.
"Location unknown," Voss answered. "But they left a signature."
She tapped the screen. It zoomed in on a digital smear: jagged, angular, sharp like a fractured blade. Elias recognized it.
Nadia did too. "Viper," she said quietly.
A cold hush fell. Even Marcus Hale's bluster evaporated.
Holt moved towards them. "If Viper gets through the Spine, they can shut down Cascadia, sir, bit by bit."
"What is this a prelude to?" Hale snapped.
Nadia answered calmly. "To collapse."
Elias forced the room to focus. "What's the immediate threat?"
"Water treatment plants are failing," Grid Security stated. "Hospitals are operating on backup."
Elias's voice cut through the room like a blade.
"Countermeasures?"
Catherine Voss hesitated, the silence amplifying her internal conflict. "No methods unless a complete Spine-wide shutdown is performed."
A murmur rippled through the room. Someone cursed under their breath.
Elias inhaled slowly, trying to push away the thought of Gregory's blood.
For a heartbeat, the room blurred. He forced the image back into the vault he kept for battlefield ghosts. Then he spoke.
"I want a response with three levels," Elias said, his voice hardening. "To quickly get the northern grids running again, we need short-term stabilization."
People sat straighter. Pens stopped tapping. Someone exhaled like they'd been underwater.
"Call it what it is. This isn't sabotage. This isn't a cyber breach. This is an act of war."
The room froze, so completely the air felt colder.
Marcus Hale's voice cracked as he spoke. "Sir… if this is war, the markets will—"
Elias didn't let him finish.
"Marcus, the markets jumped off a cliff the moment Gregory's body hit the ground. We're already in the fire. I'm just naming the temperature."
The room held its breath, then inhaled as one.
Nadia stood beside him, her presence offering stability. All in the room felt it. They were always impressed by her purposefulness.
"Move," Elias said, his command echoing with a muted authority.
Screens lit. Orders flew. Advisors scrambled. Holt barked commands into the comm. Voss typed fast enough to sting her fingertips.
Nadia approached his side when the flurry of activity first started.
"You still haven't eaten," she murmured.
He sighed, eyes still scanning the data. "I'll eat when the north has power again."
"You will eat because you're now the only person in this country who isn't allowed to pass out," she said, low and sharp. "If I have to ask Loretta to sedate you and pour food down your throat, I will."
He didn't doubt her for a second.
He sighed, ate the unappetizing bread, and continued to stare at files. "Happy?" he muttered, swallowing.
She considered him for a long, unhurried second. "Not particularly," she replied, "but I'll accept it."
A faint smile played on the edge of her lips.
She shifted her stance, business returning to her posture. "So," she whispered, "what about the Vice President list?
"Nadia," he said, voice lowering, "are we really doing this now?"
She nodded. "By the end of today, they'll push the matter."
His temple throbbed, burdened by a country, a lost friend, and a system under siege. "Alright," he murmured. "Let's talk about the VP."