White House,

  Washington DC,

  A panicked Yagou cradled Hanki's limp body, his skin ghastly pale, his breathing so faint it was nearly imperceptible. A sheen of cold sweat covered his brow, his limbs limp as if life itself was slipping away.

  "Hanki! Stay with me!" Yagou pleaded, shaking him slightly, hoping—praying—for a response.

  But there was nothing.

  The Secret Service erupted into action. Guns snapped up, safeties flicked off, and defensive positions formed in an instant.

  "Protect the President!" barked the lead agent. "We may have an unknown biohazard! Medical team, secure the room! No one moves until we confirm the threat!"

  Yagou barely registered the order.

  His mind was racing, panic setting in, but not for the same reasons as those around him. He knew this wasn’t a disease, poison, or infection.

  It was Mana deprivation.

  The realization hit him like a war hammer to the chest. Hanki wasn’t dying from any ailment—he was suffocating without Mana.

  Yagou had felt it himself, a constant unease in this foreign land like the very air was thinner than what he was used to. But he had adjusted, barely. Hanki, on the other hand, was far more sensitive since he lacked any of his own. His body, bathed in Mana since birth, was now being drained by the very absence of it.

  And if Yagou didn’t act now, he was going to die.

  "Sir, step away from the body!" one of the Secret Service agents ordered, stepping closer with a drawn sidearm. "We don't know what this is!"

  Yagou ignored them. His heartbeat was deafening in his ears. He had no choice.

  "You wouldn’t understand!" he spat, his hands tightening around Hanki’s shoulders. "If I don’t act now, he’s as good as dead!"

  The lead agent took another step forward, his voice iron-clad. "Sir, if you make any sudden movements, we will be forced to—"

  But Yagou was already moving.

  He stretched his palm over Hanki’s chest, closing his eyes, drawing deep within himself.

  "Spirits of the Aether, let the tides of life return to their vessel—"

  A soft, golden glow began to emanate from his hands.

  The room froze.

  The agents hesitated, confusion flashing in their eyes. This wasn’t technology. This wasn’t anything they had ever seen before.

  The President herself took a step forward, staring at the light with a mixture of awe and disbelief.

  "What... what is that?" she whispered.

  But Yagou wasn’t listening.

  His focus was on the magic flowing through him. The golden light spread from his hands, spiralling into Hanki’s body, filling the void left by the absence of Mana.

  For a split second, nothing happened.

  Then—

  Hanki gasped.

  His back arched as the light surged through him, his limbs twitching violently before his entire body stilled. Then, his eyes fluttered open.

  He was alive.

  A stunned silence filled the room.

  The Secret Service didn’t lower their weapons. The medics didn’t move.

  And then—

  "YAGOU!"

  A voice broke through the heavy tension, and Elara and Nelson came rushing in.

  Elara's eyes widened in horror at the scene. "What happened?!"

  Nelson, normally composed, froze in the doorway as his eyes locked onto the golden aura still flickering in Yagou’s hands.

  "...What the hell...?" he whispered.

  The realization hit the room all at once.

  Yagou wasn’t a doctor.

  He wasn’t using science.

  He had just healed someone with magic.

  A force that should not exist in this world.

  The President finally spoke, her voice measured, but unable to hide the undercurrent of shock.

  "Mr. Yagou," she said, her words deliberate. "We need to have a conversation. Now!"

  …

  The room remained frozen in stunned silence. The golden tendrils of light from Yagou’s hands slowly faded, dissipating into the air like embers dying out. But the effects remained.

  Hanki was alive.

  His breaths, once faint and irregular, were now strong and steady. His body, moments ago pale as death, had regained its colour. The sweat on his brow had vanished.

  Yagou exhaled sharply, exhaustion settling into his bones. Even for him, casting magic in a place so devoid of Mana took its toll.

  But it was worth it.

  Then, reality crashed down.

  The Secret Service agents, still surrounding the President, didn’t lower their weapons. Their hands trembled slightly, but their training kept them locked in place. Their expressions ranged from shock to sheer terror.

  One of them finally spoke.

  “…What the hell did we just see?”

  His words were like a trigger, snapping the room out of its daze.

  The lead agent barked into his radio. “All units, we have a Code Red. Immediate containment protocol! Repeat, unknown anomalous event in the Oval Office!”

  The phrase “Code Red” sent the entire White House into lockdown mode. Doors slammed shut. Sirens blared through the corridors. A full security protocol had just been enacted.

  Elara and Nelson were still standing at the entrance, eyes darting between Yagou and the Secret Service.

  "What the hell do you mean 'containment'?" Elara snapped, stepping forward. "Yagou just saved his life!"

  The agent glared at her. "And he did it using something that shouldn't exist! How did he do that? What did he just use? Is it a weapon? A bio-agent? Some kind of advanced tech?"

  Nelson, still pale, shook his head in disbelief.

  "That wasn’t technology." His voice was quiet but firm. "That was something else. Something we don’t have."

  President Charon, who had remained silent through the chaos, finally took a step forward.

  "Stand down."

  The lead agent hesitated. "Madam President, we don’t know if this is safe—"

  "I said stand down."

  There was no room for argument in her voice. Slowly, reluctantly, the agents lowered their weapons.

  The President’s gaze locked onto Yagou. For the first time, her expression was unreadable.

  "Explain," she said simply.

  Yagou clenched his fists. He had known this moment would come sooner or later. He had hoped for later.

  But now… there was no avoiding it.

  "What you just saw… is called magic."

  No one reacted for a moment.

  Then—

  "Bullshit."

  The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

  The word came from one of the agents. A younger one, disbelief clear on his face. "Magic isn’t real."

  Yagou narrowed his eyes.

  "Then tell me, what just happened?"

  The agent opened his mouth, then closed it. He had no answer.

  President Charon’s expression didn’t change. "Magic." She tested the word on her tongue like it was something foreign.

  Yagou took a deep breath. "I understand this is impossible for you to believe. But where I come from, magic is real. It has always been real. It flows through us, through the land, through the very air we breathe. But here..." He exhaled, shaking his head. "Here, there is none. And it was killing Hanki."

  The President folded her arms, studying him. "And you... you can use this magic?"

  Yagou nodded. "Yes. And so can the people of our world."

  Silence.

  Then Nelson spoke.

  "If this is true, then…" He hesitated, the implications hitting him all at once. "Then our world and yours… they aren’t just different politically. They are fundamentally different."

  Yagou nodded grimly. "Now you understand."

  The President turned to the medical team, still kneeling beside Hanki, who was now awake but groggy.

  "Run every possible test," she ordered. "If this 'Mana' really exists, I want it confirmed."

  One of the medics hesitated. "Madam President, we… don’t even have a baseline for what that would look like."

  She looked back at Yagou. "Then we find one."

  The room was tense, the weight of the moment pressing down on everyone.

  Yagou sighed. This was just the beginning.

  High above the earth, unseen eyes watched.

  A shadowed figure sat in front of a glowing screen, monitoring the security feeds from inside the White House.

  Their fingers tightened around the armrest of their chair as they watched the replay of the event, frame by frame.

  The golden light. The strange energy.

  The impossible.

  A smile curled on their lips.

  "So, magic is real after all."

  They leaned forward, their eyes gleaming with a dangerous curiosity.

  "This changes everything."

  …

  The President’s Office

  White House,

  President Charon sat at the head of a polished wooden table, her fingers laced together as she studied Yagou across from her.

  Beside her, Emily stood tall, adjusting her glasses as she observed Yagou with a neutral but deeply inquisitive gaze.

  The air in the room was heavy. Not with hostility, but with something far more dangerous—uncertainty.

  Magic. Mana. The very foundation of Yagou’s world had just been laid bare before the leader of the most powerful nation on this Planet.

  And Charon hated uncertainty.

  “Tell me everything,” she finally said. Her voice was steady, but Yagou could see the tightness in her jaw.

  Emily, who had been with Charon through her darkest days, recognized that tension.

  Yagou exhaled. “Where do you want me to start?”

  Charon narrowed her eyes. “Start with what’s killing Hanki.”

  Yagou leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. “Your world has no mana. That’s the problem.”

  Charon exchanged a glance with Emily, who raised an eyebrow but remained silent.

  “Explain,” Charon said.

  Yagou nodded. “In my world, mana is everywhere. It’s in the air, in the land, in the creatures, and us. Those who are born and raised in a mana-rich environment become dependent on it, much like your bodies require oxygen. You can survive at higher altitudes where oxygen is thinner, but eventually, the lack of it will kill you. That’s what’s happening to Hanki.”

  Charon tapped her fingers against the table, processing. “So, you're saying that being here is… suffocating him? But internally?”

  Yagou nodded grimly. “Yes.”

  Emily adjusted her glasses. “And you? Are you in danger?”

  Yagou hesitated. “I can withstand it better than Hanki, but… if I remain here too long without a mana source, it could start affecting me as well.”

  The weight of his words settled over the room.

  For the first time since the transference event, the United States faced a problem that military power or economic dominance could not solve.

  President Charon leaned back in her chair, rubbing her temples. “So let me get this straight. If more of your people come here, they’ll suffer the same fate?”

  Yagou nodded. “Yes. Unless we find a solution.”

  Charon sighed. “And what kind of solution are we talking about?”

  Yagou fell silent.

  Because the truth was, he didn’t know.

  Yagou nodded and bowed before replying,” Thank you for your kindness, I hope for our prosperous cooperation in the future, now please excuse me”

  President Charon exhaled slowly, running a hand down her face as the heavy doors of the meeting room shut behind Yagou. The weight of the moment pressed down on her shoulders.

  Across from her, Emily leaned back in her chair, her fingers lightly tapping against the polished wood of the conference table. The only sound in the room was the faint hum of the air conditioning and the distant murmur of aides bustling in the West Wing.

  For a few seconds, neither of them spoke.

  Then Emily, ever the pragmatist, let out a dry chuckle. "Magic." She shook her head, adjusting her glasses. "We just witnessed a man bring someone back from the brink of death using actual, verifiable magic. And instead of panicking, you just let him walk out like this was any other negotiation."

  Charon sighed, her fingers still laced together. "What was I supposed to do? Keep him here against his will? Treat him like a lab experiment?"

  Emily smirked. "I mean, the CIA would have loved that."

  Charon gave her a flat look. "I know."

  Emily’s smirk faded slightly, and she studied Charon for a moment before leaning forward. "Do you really think it's wise to let them leave so soon?"

  Charon didn’t answer right away. Instead, she tapped her fingers against the desk, staring at a single spot as if weighing invisible scales in her head. Finally, she sighed and spoke.

  "It’s better this way. I don’t want anyone else to know about this—especially those hawks in the Senate."

  Emily’s brow furrowed. "You think they’d push to use this against them?"

  Charon let out a hollow chuckle. "I know they would. They’re already pushing to take over the nearby regions in the name of ‘protecting America.’"

  Emily scoffed. "Protecting America, my ass." She crossed her arms. "They just want to fill their pockets by teaming up with those industrialists. The same ones who've been circling like vultures ever since the transference event."

  Charon nodded. "Exactly." She let out a long breath. "We’ve already seen what happened with the resource grabs in the Northern Territories. If they find out about magic? About mana? It’ll make oil wars look like playground scuffles."

  Emily narrowed her eyes. "And if they find out we let someone capable of using it just… walk away?"

  Charon finally leaned back, her gaze unreadable. "Then we’ll have a hell of a storm on our hands."

  A heavy silence followed.

  Emily studied her boss’s face carefully. "And you're okay with that?"

  Charon gave a small, tired smile. "No. But I’d rather deal with the Senate’s anger than give them an excuse to start a war over something they don’t understand."

  Emily was quiet for a moment before finally sighing and rubbing her temples. "God, I hate politics."

  Charon chuckled. "Then why are you here?"

  Emily shot her a dry look. "Because you’d be lost without me, obviously."

  The President actually laughed at that, shaking her head.

  For a moment, it almost felt normal again.

  But that moment didn’t last.

  Because deep down, they both knew—this was far from over.

  And they had no idea what came next.

  …

  Georgetown University Hospital,

  Washington D.C,

  The hospital room was cold, sterile, and far too quiet for Yagou’s liking. Hanki lay unconscious on the bed, his breathing now steady but weak, his once vibrant face pale as if the life had been drained from him. The heart monitor beeped rhythmically, a cruel reminder that he was still alive—but only barely.

  Outside, the sky was overcast, as if nature itself sensed the tension brewing in the White House and beyond.

  Doctors and nurses moved around, whispering in hushed voices as they continued running scans and tests, trying to understand what had happened to him. They found nothing.

  Everything about Hanki’s vitals suggested he should be dead. His blood oxygen levels were stable, his brain activity normal—yet his body was shutting down.

  Because their science had no concept of mana.

  Meanwhile, Nelson stood by the hospital room’s glass window, his arms crossed, watching the medical team work on Hanki inside. His face was unreadable.

  Beside him, Elara leaned against the wall, arms crossed, a troubled expression on her face.

  For a long moment, neither of them spoke.

  Then, Nelson broke the silence.

  “So… magic.”

  Elara let out a soft chuckle, though there was no humour in it. “Surprised?”

  Nelson turned to her. “Wouldn’t you be? It’s one thing to hear stories. It’s another thing to see it with my own eyes.”

  Elara glanced at him, her emerald eyes narrowing. “Are you afraid of us now?”

  Nelson scoffed. “Afraid? No. But I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t concerned.”

  Elara’s gaze softened slightly. “That’s fair.”

  A long pause.

  Then, Nelson sighed. “What does this mean for us?”

  Elara looked away. “I don’t know.”

  Nelson exhaled sharply, rubbing his temples. “Jesus. First, our entire world gets thrown into another reality, and now we find out magic is real. What’s next?Angels?”

  Elara smirked. “Actually…”

  Nelson stared at her. “No. No way.”

  Elara just shrugged.

  Nelson groaned. “Goddamn it.”

  For the first time that day, Elara actually laughed.

  Nelson shook his head, turning back toward the window. His expression grew serious again. “He’s gonna make it, right?”

  Elara’s smile faded. “I don’t know, Nelson. But if Yagou says he’ll fight to save him, then I believe him.”

  Nelson nodded. “Then so will I.”

  The two stood there in silence, watching over their friend, as the weight of the world—of two worlds—settled on their shoulders.

  …

  A few Days Later,

  Hanki sat up in his hospital bed, stretching his arms. The colour had returned to his face, and the weakness that once consumed him had dissipated. Though the doctors were still clueless as to how he had recovered so rapidly, Yagou knew better. Three days of relentless healing spells had done their work.

  Yagou stood by the window, watching the early sunrise over Washington, D.C. Today was their last day in the United States. Soon, they would be departing for India—their next destination, and a country whose sheer population outstripped entire civilization zones in the New World.

  Elara leaned against the hospital wall, arms crossed. "You should still take it easy, Hanki," she warned.

  Hanki scoffed, rolling his shoulders. "Bah! If I stayed any longer, I’d turn into one of these soft Americans. I’m ready to move."

  Yagou turned from the window and nodded. "Then let’s not waste any more time. We have a flight to catch."

  …

  Dulles International Airport,

  VIP Departure,

  Their convoy sped down the highway, escorted by black SUVs with tinted windows. The State Department had ensured a low-profile departure to avoid unwanted media attention, and for once, Yagou was grateful. He had no interest in being bombarded with questions about magic or Hanki’s miraculous recovery.

  As they arrived at the private terminal, President Charon’s envoy greeted them, along with a small team of Secret Service agents.

  Emily stepped forward first. “Sir Yagou, I trust everything is in order?”

  Yagou gave a slight bow. “It is. We are grateful for the hospitality shown to us here.”

  Emily smirked, but her eyes were calculating. “We’ll see how long that gratitude lasts when we start demanding more than words.”

  Yagou simply smiled. “We shall see.”

  The group turned as a voice called out—President Charon, having made a last-minute arrival, strode toward them.

  She extended a hand toward Yagou, who hesitated for a split second before shaking it. A firm grip. No hesitation.

  “Safe travels, Yagou. You’ll find India to be a very different challenge.”

  Yagou nodded. "We welcome it."

  With that, they boarded their aircraft—a sleek Boeing 747, provided by the United Nations Joint Transport Service. Within minutes, they were taxiing heading eastward toward the subcontinent.

  The aircraft soon soared into the sky, leaving behind the towering skyline of Washington, D.C., and the political machinations that had unfolded beneath it. As Yagou settled into his seat, he cast one last glance out the window, watching the lights of the United States fade into the horizon.

  Ahead lay India—a land of immense contradictions and boundless potential. A country more populous than entire civilization zones combined, and yet, one that managed to survive among the Titans of Earth.

  …

  TBC