Chapter Six
As the Minister of Justice grasped the edge of the veil, I instinctively closed my eyes. I could not bear the thought of witnessing another world after what I had just endured. The first globe had left wounds upon my soul that no words could describe. I could still hear the cries. I could still smell the smoke. Every image remained as vivid as the moment I had seen it.
For several moments there was only silence.
Then I heard his voice.
“Open your eyes, Marine.”
I could not.
Fear had taken hold of me.
Again he spoke, not with anger but with quiet authority.
“Open your eyes… and behold what could be.”
Those four words struck me harder than anything I had yet heard.
What could be.
History had already happened. It could not be changed.
But this…
This terrified me even more.
Slowly, I opened my eyes.
We were no longer standing outside the globe.
We were inside it.
At first there was nothing frightening about what I saw. It was a beautiful day. The sky was clear. The sun shone brightly. Birds drifted lazily overhead as a gentle breeze moved through the trees. Families stood together beneath a sea of American flags while music echoed through enormous speakers. Thousands of people had gathered around a stage, laughing, talking, and waiting expectantly for the candidate to appear. For a brief moment I wondered if perhaps my fears had been misplaced.
Then the rally began.
Donald Trump stepped onto the stage wearing a bright red cap embroidered with the words MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN. The crowd erupted into thunderous applause. He spoke of a nation he believed had lost its way. He warned that America was being overrun, that criminals and dangerous people were entering the country, and that weak leadership had allowed the nation to decline. He promised renewed strength, secure borders, economic recovery, and a restored nation. Again and again he returned to one central theme: if the people placed their trust in him, America would become great again.
As I listened, an uneasy feeling settled over me. The language was different. The nation was different. Yet something deep within my soul recognized a pattern I believed I had encountered before. I could not explain it, but the familiarity itself frightened me.
Halfway through the rally he paused. Smiling confidently, he removed the red cap from his head. Then, almost playfully, he placed another cap upon it.
Across the front were printed the words:
I’M RIGHT ABOUT EVERYTHING.
The crowd laughed.
Then the applause became even louder.
I felt my stomach tighten.
I glanced toward the Minister of Justice.
He said nothing.
He simply watched.
Without warning the scene dissolved.
The cheering crowd faded into silence, and in an instant we stood inside the Oval Office.
The Resolute Desk was almost hidden beneath towering stacks of executive orders. They were piled one upon another like cordwood. Advisors moved with practiced precision. One document was placed before the President. A signature. It disappeared. Another immediately replaced it. Again. Again. Again. The pen scarcely seemed to pause.
As I listened, I heard brief explanations accompanying the documents.
Tariffs and trade.
Reorganization of the federal workforce.
Changes in national security priorities.
New military leadership assignments.
Changes affecting cybersecurity and intelligence responsibilities.
Federal funds redirected among agencies and programs.
Each order seemed ordinary when viewed by itself.
Together they felt different.
It seemed to me that, with every signature, the machinery of government shifted ever so slightly. The changes were subtle. Procedures evolved. Authorities were reorganized. New chains of command appeared while familiar ones quietly faded. Standing there, I found myself wondering whether I was witnessing ordinary governmental transition… or the beginning of something much larger.
The scene shifted again.
It was as though an invisible hand had lifted us from one place and set us down in another without the passage of time. Before me stood the highest levels of the American government in the midst of profound transition.
I watched senior military leaders quietly leaving their offices. The Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff. Members of the Joint Chiefs. Combatant commanders. Senior generals and admirals. Civilian leaders within the Department of Defense. Some departed carrying only a small box of personal belongings. Others paused briefly to shake hands before disappearing down long corridors. As one office emptied, another was filled. The pace of change seemed relentless, and I could not escape the feeling that decades of institutional knowledge were walking out the door.
The vision carried me onward into the Department of Justice. Attorneys, investigators, and career public servants moved silently through the hallways carrying files and personal belongings. Within the vision I saw experienced professionals leaving offices that had once seemed permanent. New faces took their places almost immediately. The institution continued to function, yet I sensed that its leadership and direction were being reshaped before my eyes.
Again the scene changed.
Rooms filled with computer screens stretched in every direction. Cybersecurity specialists and technical professionals departed while new personnel assumed unfamiliar responsibilities. Information continued flowing across countless monitors, yet empty workstations remained throughout the room. Watching it unfold, I felt an uneasiness I could not shake. I found myself wondering how any nation could undergo such sweeping institutional change without creating uncertainty or exposing vulnerabilities that adversaries might seek to exploit.
We moved once more.
The vision widened beyond government buildings. Relationships with longtime allies appeared increasingly strained. Diplomatic conversations that once seemed rooted in cooperation now revolved around pressure, leverage, tariffs, and demands. Public discussion turned to territorial ambitions and disputes with neighboring nations. Whether these tensions would ultimately pass or deepen, I could not tell. Yet throughout the vision I sensed a growing atmosphere in which persuasion seemed to be giving way to coercion.
The Minister of Justice remained beside me.
He neither approved nor condemned.
He simply allowed me to watch.
Somewhere deep within my soul I knew we had not yet reached the reason I had been brought here.
The true terror…
…still waited around the next corner.