General Jackson suddenly convulsed in pain, “Ach, fuck... why did the curse trigger so early?” He leaned heavily over his table, gripping its edges to steady himself as the dark energy from the curse coursed through his veins. His skin felt like it was burning from the inside out, and the pressure behind his eyes made it hard to focus.

  Suddenly, a knock came on the door, jolting him out of his haze. “WAIT!” Jackson screamed, the words laced with both authority and desperation. He took a moment to compose himself, fighting back the agony with deep, forced breaths. Only when he was sure his voice wouldn’t betray his pain did he call out, “Come in.”

  The door creaked open, and Percy entered the room. Percy was a thin, unassuming man, always meticulously dressed in crisp suits that seemed too big for his frail frame. His eyes darted toward Jackson, quickly assessing the general’s condition but wisely choosing not to comment. Percy’s sharp instincts earned Jackson’s trust, and those instincts told him that Jackson was in no mood to be questioned.

  “Sir,” Percy began, keeping his voice steady and professional, “we have received reports of the four Awakened we sent to the US being killed, hence activating the curse.”

  Jackson tightened his grip on the edge of the table, his knuckles turning white. “Damn incompetent,” he muttered under his breath, his voice barely audible over the dull ringing in his ears. He swallowed hard, forcing himself to focus. “Thanks, Percy. Is there anything else?”

  “Yes, in fact, there is,” Percy replied, his tone cautious. He took a breath before delivering the news. “The US President has declared war on us and anyone who allies with us.”

  The words hit Jackson like a physical blow. In the midst of taking a sip of his coffee, he sputtered, spitting the liquid onto his desk in shock. “What?” he exclaimed, his eyes wide. He raised a hand to stop Percy from continuing, needing a moment to process the implications of what he had just heard.

  The declaration of war was not unexpected, not after the four Awakened had been killed and the devastating consequences of the curse had been felt. But it was too soon—far sooner than Jackson had anticipated. He needed more time. ‘It’s probably because of the four Awakened and the deaths of everyone who was under the curse... not surprising, but it’s still too early—the contract I had with Hades isn’t yet fulfilled.’

  Jackson’s mind was racing. He knew this declaration of war wasn’t just about the deaths of the four Awakened—it was about the thousands of lives that had been lost due to the curse and the fear that had spread as a result. The US government had put the pieces together, realizing the scale of the threat they faced and deciding to strike before things could get worse.

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  Jackson finally composed himself and looked up at Percy, who was waiting silently. His assistant’s expression was impassive, but the tension in his posture gave away his unease. “Percy,” Jackson said, his voice firm despite the lingering pain. “I want all our assets mobilized. Prepare our forces for immediate retaliation and secure our communication lines with our allies. We can’t afford to show any weakness.”

  “Of course, General,” Percy replied with a nod, already taking notes on his clipboard.

  Jackson took a deep breath, his mind racing with strategies and contingencies. He would have to tread carefully now—the stakes were higher than ever, and the slightest mistake could cost him everything. But he wasn’t about to let the US or any other nation stand in his way. He had sacrificed too much and come too far to be stopped now.

  “Dismissed,” Jackson said, his voice carrying an edge of finality. Percy nodded once more before quietly leaving the room and closing the door behind him.

  As Jackson sat there, the pain from the curse still simmering beneath his skin, he clenched his fists in frustration. He couldn’t afford any more setbacks. If the US wanted a war, he would give them one—on his terms and with the power of the god of death at his back.

  ***

  “The President declared war?!” Flint's voice echoed through the hallway, his eyes wide with shock as he stared at Vera. His disbelief was so intense that he couldn’t control the spit flying from his mouth as he shouted.

  Vera, who had heard the news from James the previous night, wiped her cheek calmly, suppressing her irritation. “Yes,” she replied evenly, her voice steady despite Flint’s reaction. She had been bracing herself for this moment, but delivering the news to Flint still felt like pouring gasoline on an open flame. “He has. We’ve been called to the front lines as a result.”

  Flint’s expression shifted from shock to anger. “Why the hell weren’t we told sooner?” he demanded, clenching his fists. “What’s the point of having us in the dark when—”

  “Flint!” Vera’s tone cut him off, her patience wearing thin. She took a steady breath before continuing. “This isn’t about what we weren’t told; this is about what we do now. And we don’t have time to sit here complaining.”

  Flint let out a frustrated huff, but he didn’t interrupt again. He was still visibly agitated, but Vera’s words seemed to ground him somewhat. Vera took the moment of silence to press on.

  “Our spies in England have already noticed their forces mobilizing,” she continued, her voice lowering as she spoke more urgently. “The predicted time of their arrival is less than a month from now. We’ve got to be ready—there’s no telling how intense this conflict is going to be.”

  Flint ran a hand through his hair, trying to absorb the information. “A month,” he muttered, his anger simmering down into a more serious determination. “That’s barely enough time to prepare.”

  “Exactly,” Vera agreed, her eyes narrowing. “But that’s the situation we’re in. James expects us to lead at the front lines, and we need to be ready for whatever they’re bringing. This isn’t just another mission—this is an all-out war.”

  The gravity of her words sank, and Flint seemed to wrestle with the implications. But in the end, his expression hardened with resolve. “Fine,” he said, his voice steady now. “Then we get ready. We train harder, and we stay alert.”

  Vera nodded in agreement, relieved that Flint was focusing. She knew they couldn’t afford any hesitation or doubt—not now, with the world on the brink of chaos. “And we stay close to each other,” she added.

  Flint gave her a determined nod. “Got it.”

  As they turned to leave, both of them knew that the coming month would be a whirlwind of preparation, strategy, and facing the ever-looming threat of England’s forces. The weight of the war rested heavily on their shoulders, and they could only hope their strength would be enough to withstand it.