Whitehall

Emma, at 22 years old, graduated early with excellent grades and secured a position as a secretary in the Treasury Office. Today marks her first day of work at Whitehall.

Eager to make a good first impression, she meticulously styled her bangs, applied a subtle makeup look, and even indulged in using her mother's expensive perfume, which was usually reserved for special occasions.

The morning sunlight streamed through the windows, casting a serene glow on her carefully chosen and ironed dark blue business suit. The deep blue fabric reflected a composed shimmer under the sunlight. The single-breasted design of the jacket accentuated her figure, while the straight-leg trousers elongated her legs, resulting in a look that was both professional and elegant. It was as if the air itself was filled with a fresh sense of anticipation and vitality.

Standing in front of the office on the fifth floor, she felt a mix of excitement and nerves about meeting her director—one of the most powerful individuals in Britain: the Chancellor of the Exchequer, Mr. Hack!

"Wow, I can't believe I'm about to meet someone you usually only see in the news!" Emma thought. Coming from a modest background, it was her hard work that brought her this far, so it was natural to feel a bit anxious about such a significant meeting.

To ensure everything was perfect, she pulled out a compact mirror from her pocket for a quick appearance check.

Unbeknownst to her, at the end of the corridor by the window, a shadowy figure was making its way up.

The figure gently pushed open the window and slipped in, landing on tiptoes with barely a sound.

Emma felt something was off and glanced towards the window—nothing but the blinding sunlight.

"What a lovely day, a good omen," she thought.

"Hmm? That window wasn't open before." Noticing something amiss, she turned back only to find an unexpected presence beside her!

Before she could scream, a strong hand covered her mouth.

"Don't be afraid, I'm just looking for someone," a voice whispered in her ear.

"Who's the highest-ranking person here? Where?" The question confirmed Emma's suspicion that this was an intruder!

Of course, it was Ethan.

He had reluctantly climbed around the exterior, finding this the only unlocked window.

But this secretary-like girl was in his way.

He had planned to sneak in and then pretend to be a visitor to casually meet with a high-ranking government official.

Caught by Emma, he had no choice but to change tactics, restraining her to ask questions.

Seeing Emma calm down, Ethan slowly released his grip.

Emma gasped for air, her nostrils filled with the scent of sweat left by Ethan's proximity, ruining the delicate balance of her perfume—a crude interruption by this brute!

Yet, she couldn't afford to antagonize this man, whose gaze reminded her of wild beasts from her hometown.

Emma's adaptability was key to her securing this position. She quickly regained her composure and began to explain:

"Sir, Whitehall is essentially the hub of London's government. If you're looking for the highest official, the Chancellor of the Exchequer, Mr. Hack, whom I'm waiting to see, is currently in a meeting behind this door. The Secretary of Culture and the Secretary of Transportation are also holding meetings in the grand conference room downstairs. These are the highest-ranking officials present in Whitehall at the moment."

"But they all have tight schedules, and barging in like this won't get you an audience with them. However, if you have a message, I can relay it to Mr. Hack, my director, later," Emma added.

Ethan nodded, realizing the seriousness of their schedules. He needed to speak directly to someone about the sunken ceremony, so going through this secretary wasn't an option.

"Culture and Transportation Secretaries... obviously not as high-ranking as the Chancellor, right?" Ethan wasn't familiar with the British government's hierarchy, but he assumed economic roles were more critical.

"No time to waste, the earlier we start preparing, the more people we might save," Ethan thought. With the sunken ceremony happening in five days, disaster was imminent, and his notebook even suggested mysterious creatures might appear due to the ritual.

So, he moved forward, pushing open the door before Emma could react!

Of course, the door was locked, but Ethan's strength made short work of the ancient wood and lock, which merely whimpered under his force.

"Hey...?!" Emma wanted to stop him but was taken aback by his feat.

As the door opened, the discussion inside ceased abruptly, and two burly men in suits, clearly bodyguards, blocked the entrance, hands ready on their holsters.

"I mean no harm. There's a severe issue I need to discuss with Mr. Hack," Ethan said, hands raised.

"Mr. Hack isn't someone you can just demand to see. Leave now," one bodyguard, recognizing Ethan as an unfamiliar face, stepped forward to block him.

"I can't. This concerns countless lives. Can you bear that responsibility?" Ethan didn't back down, stepping closer to the bodyguard.

Entering the guard's personal space, the bodyguard didn't hesitate to aim a swift elbow at Ethan's stomach.

These types of crazies show up now and then, and he's seen his fair share. Although how this one got into Whitehall and opened the door was a mystery, his job was to ensure such disturbances didn't bother the minister.

Unexpectedly, Ethan was quicker, catching the elbow and pushing the bodyguard with ease.

The nearly two-meter-tall, 200-pound bodyguard couldn't withstand even this light push, crashing into his colleague behind him!

"How is that possible!" The event unfolded too quickly for the bodyguard to comprehend, but Emma saw everything. This mysterious man possessed incredible strength.

Quickly regaining his footing, the bodyguard prepared for another charge, determined to subdue the intruder now that he was ready.

"Enough, Arnold. Let's hear what our guest has to say," a seasoned yet authoritative voice from the room halted any further confrontation.

"Yes, sir," Arnold, the bodyguard, immediately halted his advance, responding respectfully.

With the bodyguards stepping aside, Ethan saw the room's interior.

A modest-sized conference room, elegantly furnished with a subtle scent, was filled with people in expensive suits, all eyes on Ethan at the doorway.

"Thank you for understanding," Ethan stepped in, pulling out the notebook, "If you're well-informed, you'd know the British Library was reported as hijacked today, and I was the one who called the police."

He had rehearsed his story many times in his mind; starting from the old mansion's events, he quickly outlined the past two days' occurrences.

"Mr. Ethan, while your story sounds incredible," Chancellor Hack glanced at Ethan's notebook, continuing, "you see, the British Library did receive an alarm today, but it was confirmed there was no intrusion, no men in black as you described."

What? Ethan's pupils dilated in shock.

"As for the unusual flickering of the sun, that was merely an eclipse. Please refrain from spreading rumors," Hack dismissed with a wave, signaling the bodyguards who moved behind Ethan.

"Mr. Ethan, I'll overlook the trouble you've caused this time, but if there's a next time, I'll have to call security to detain you," Hack sipped his coffee, the bodyguards signaling Ethan towards the door with a "please" gesture.

Wrong, it must be the pocket watch's doing! Ethan realized, recalling how the watch could transport him out. The men in black must have used a similar method to escape undetected after stealing the watch!

"No, Mr. Hack, it's definitely because of the watch!" Ethan tried to explain further, only to be interrupted by Hack, "If you continue this baseless harassment, I'll have to call the guards downstairs."

Frustrated, Ethan knew he had failed to convince them, clearly not trusted to collaborate. He left as indicated.

...

After being escorted out of Whitehall, Ethan pondered his next steps. With the government disbelieving him, what should he do?

"Forget it, these fools will regret their arrogance sooner or later. I think I should start by setting up a shelter and stockpiling some food and supplies," Ethan thought bitterly.

However, he was short on funds. After some thought, Ethan decided to call Mark.

This time, Ethan was smarter, not mentioning the ceremony but expressing an urgent need for money.

Mark, clearly in a bad mood, begrudgingly transferred £500 to Ethan after some complaints.

Ethan also borrowed a bit from his parents. Though not much, combined with his savings, he managed to gather around £3000—enough to buy a significant amount of emergency supplies and food.

With the money secured, Ethan felt somewhat relieved. He ordered a batch of potatoes and rice from a farm online—storable foods, with potatoes also being replantable, enough for half a year's consumption.

He also purchased vegetables from other farms, though in smaller quantities due to their shorter shelf life. The bulk purchases allowed him to save money compared to shopping at Tesco, spending only about £150 in total.

On the train home, Ethan mentally prepared a list of essentials: canned goods, water, clothes, weapons, and medicine.

Near home, he noted there were a few hours left before sunset at 4:30 PM, a good time to stop by Boots for some medical supplies.

Boots, a common chain in London, specializes in selling medications, health products, and cosmetics, occasionally offering flu vaccinations.

Entering Boots, Ethan's head buzzed, followed by a slight tremor.

Hmm? He looked outside.

A fog seemed to emerge, absorbing light and turning black, blurring and darkening everything outside.

As Ethan considered the fog's resemblance to what he saw at the old mansion, the world lost its color.

Night fell.

The sun had extinguished again!