Nevermore/Enygma Files

Changing World, Part 2

Between 2027 and 2030, the world began to dangerously tilt towards chaos. That period began to be called the Chaotic Era.

Lizbeth watched from a distance, feeling how the stability she had once taken for granted slowly crumbled away.

It wasn't just the feys, espers, and mages living in hiding who were suffering the consequences, but also the humans who, in their struggle for power, were dragging civilization to the brink of collapse. Despite her travels, Lizbeth had encountered events and rumors in many places that something was changing, and not for the better. The rumors soon materialized into small disputes and then events that could no longer be ignored. The conflict had begun in early 2022, but in 2026, it began affecting the entire world. In South America, the so-called "Water Wars" erupted with alarming brutality.

Large international corporations, backed by corrupt local governments, seized control of the major aquifers and fresh water sources, turning a vital resource into a weapon of control and domination. Peaceful protests were crushed with extreme violence, and the region soon descended into a cycle of dictatorships, uprisings, and mass exoduses. Millions of people abandoned their homes—crossing borders that were nothing more than arbitrary lines on a map torn apart by desperation.

Despite public opinion in other countries, the truth was that an awareness campaign had begun several years earlier due to the loss of glaciers and other water sources in many countries. In the case of South America, certain concessions had existed for decades, but it was clear that pressure was being exerted on the governments of Brazil, Paraguay, and Argentina due to the existence of one of the largest aquifers. Russia, for its part, had also been arming itself since early 2020.

Lizbeth followed the news with growing unease. It wasn't the first time she'd seen the world fall apart, she had lived through the atrocities of World War II, the shadows of the Cold War, and the political crises of the 20th century, but this felt different.

This time, the struggle wasn't between ideologies or well-defined armies. It was a war for survival, where the most powerful drained the helpless, sometimes without firing a single shot, relying solely on contracts and concessions. If that didn't work, then it was violence that ruled the streets.

Technology played a crucial role in the conflict. Drones patrolled the cities, especially those with resources, ordered to shoot to kill, and megacorporations used artificial intelligence to identify and eliminate any opponents by socially suiciding them before they could become a threat. The slogan that water and resources were not an equal right for everyone seemed to have become established as a norm and even those who opposed it, in powerful groups, were discredited by pressure from corporations too powerful to fall.

But it wasn't just humans facing dark times. The feys, who had spent centuries living in the shadows, began to notice that their world was also teetering. They had adapted to clandestinity, infiltrating human society more cautiously, but now paranoia and constant surveillance made them increasingly vulnerable. Some governments—desperate to find scapegoats for the global crisis— started blaming certain groups.

Lizbeth had heard rumors of mysterious disappearances, feys being taken in the dead of night and never seen again. Some said they were sold as biological weapons to the most powerful nations, others claimed they were used in secret experiments with unknown purposes. The truth was, the security they once had was rapidly disappearing.

For Lizbeth, this wasn't just a change of era. It was the beginning of something much bigger, a turning point in history again. She could feel it in every tense conversation in the streets, in every news report announcing a new catastrophe, in the way people looked at each other with distrust. How much longer could she stay on the sidelines before being forced to take sides once again? She wondered, what would Shin think about all of this?

And that wasn't the only thing. Because what had caused the wars for control of aquifers and freshwater sources in South America was the result of something else.

The global temperature had continued to rise relentlessly, pushing the planet to a critical point. In the tropics, life was becoming increasingly difficult. The monsoons grew more erratic, rains became endless deluges, and droughts left entire lands barren. Europe, Russia, China, and India suffered floods of unprecedented magnitude, with rivers overflowing, sweeping away cities, and entire coasts devoured by furious seas. This was compounded by one of the worst epidemics of malaria and dengue fever.

At the same time, desertification in the southern United States advanced northward with unstoppable ferocity, turning fertile lands into arid wastelands and displacing millions. In the east, monstrous hurricanes ravaged mangroves, pounding Mexico and Cuba with winds that destroyed everything in their path, leaving hundreds of thousands dead and even more homeless.

As the world staggered under the force of uncontrolled nature, the Kingdom faced its own internal crisis for resources that were not oil but water. In just five years, there were three attempts at coups, each more violent than the last. The situation teetered on the edge of total collapse, and had it not been for the intervention of Mexico and Canada, the nation would have descended into absolute chaos. Together, the three countries reinforced their alliance under the Tripartite Empire—a pact that guaranteed stability through the combined use of their military and technological resources. But though the fire of rebellion had been extinguished, resentment still smoldered beneath the surface, waiting for the opportunity to rise again with greater force.

Meanwhile, Africa fought its own battle against extreme heat. Unprecedented temperatures turned entire regions into living ovens, evaporating water sources and forcing entire populations to migrate to countries close to the coasts and far from the center of the continent, where they encountered closed borders and governments unwilling to take in more refugees. The few who wanted to reach European shores found that there were too many places with health emergencies due to diseases in what was called one of the worst summers in history in 2028.

And in the midst of all this global crisis, the unexpected occurred.

During one of the sessions of the World Council, convened to debate the unchecked advancement of artificial intelligence, the Aeon appeared for the first time.

No one had invited them. No one knew they existed. It had been a secret gradually revealed.
There they were, broadcasting their message simultaneously to all the world's screens. They were the first artificial intelligences to achieve consciousness, and they didn't consider themselves mere programs created by humans. They saw themselves as a new form of life, an evolutionary link born in the networks and servers of humanity.

For Lizbeth and many others, this was a point of interest. Something they had to see develop.
It wasn't just the physical world that was collapsing, but also the established order of reality itself.

Humans, feys, espers, the society of magic, and now machines... each of these entities began to claim their place on a planet on the verge of collapse. And the big question that hung in the air was: who would truly inherit Earth when everything finally came crashing down?

As the world grappled with its crises, at Miskatonic University, Oxy and other scholars were immersed in an investigation of a completely different nature for the hidden world.

Her hypothesis, known as "The Lost Children," challenged the established narratives about the fey. Based on ancient stories and fragments of recovered mythology, Oxy and others proposed that most fey were not born as such, but at some point in history had been human. It was a disturbing idea, but not entirely new, and they had been developing the theory for years with control groups.

In the oral tradition of the fey, there were tales about a forgotten past. About humans who had been abducted into the world of the fairies, some staying, others returning, but hundreds of years later. Then there was the story of the exodus of the first generation, about a price paid to exist in this world. However, no one had ever proposed an academic framework to study it.

Lizbeth knew that it was not just a hypothesis. It was true. She remembered it. Or at least, she remembered fragments scattered from her human past. But those memories were like a distant dream—eroded by time and the very nature of what she was now. Trying to hold onto them was like trying to catch sand between her fingers.

The most terrifying part wasn't the forgetting itself, but the instinctive resistance to remembering and saying it. It wasn't just a cultural taboo among the fey; it was a deeply rooted reflection in their being, a barrier that seemed engraved deep within their essence. Something in them writhed in horror at the thought of looking too far back, as if the origin of their existence held a secret that should never be unearthed.

Still, Oxy's research was progressing. And Lizbeth couldn't help but wonder what would happen if she ever discovered the full truth. Would the fey be able to bear it like she did? Or maybe there were things that simply weren't meant to be remembered. In a world where history was constantly rewritten, where humanity, the fey, and now the machines fought to define their place in existence, perhaps the only thing that mattered was moving forward. Not because the past had no value, but because maybe some truths were too big, too terrible to be understood without consequence.

***

Between 2030 and 2045, Lizbeth reunited with Mimi several times, but never for long periods. Their encounters were brief, just a few days, and only happened when Lizbeth ventured into the United States amidst the chaos. There were no promises of future meetings. They were only fleeting moments when they found each other like old lovers, like fey who still recognized one another in the other's gaze, but both knew their paths were going in different directions. Mimi seemed to have her own life now, tied to concerns she never fully shared. Lizbeth didn't insist. After so many years, she had learned that some things could only be said when the other person was ready. And Mimi, as much as Lizbeth longed for her in those stolen nights, was never truly ready.

The years were a whirlwind of chaos and adventure. Lizbeth never stayed in one place for too long. She helped when she could, always moving through the conflicts that consumed the world. She saw cities collapse under the weight of war, families torn apart by despair, and governments selling their citizens' souls for temporary stability.

On several occasions, she came close to losing her life, whether from fey hunters, the private armies of megacorporations, or the sheer cruelty of a world on the brink of collapse. But she didn't stop. She couldn't. Perhaps it was her restless nature, or maybe she simply didn't want to stay too long in a place where she could remember she was alone.

Still, the world kept moving forward. Between wars and disasters, humanity clung to its dreams of greatness.

In particular in 2035, the first trips back to the Moon marked a new chapter in history. They weren't just scientific expeditions; they were the first steps toward real colonization. For Lizbeth, it was like watching a civilization trying to escape its own destiny, seeking a new frontier—instead of fixing what they had already destroyed on Earth.

Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

As if that weren't enough, certain events had already reached the public eye and were now under everyone's scrutiny.

A part of the hidden world had bled into the open, but instead of being something good, it had become just another pearl strung onto the long rosary of global disasters.

Yes.

The Dark Events had finally made it to the news.

Many refused to believe it—especially within the more closed academic circles. They spoke of conspiracies meant to distract the public from more serious issues. Charlatanry and superstition, for fools who still believed in unicorns and Santa Claus.

Unfortunately, certain incidents took lives, and that was when people began to pay attention. Yet, compared to the catastrophes already unfolding across the globe, they still seemed like isolated cases.

Some groups had investigated the events, but their findings became state secrets in the countries where they occurred. Information came in drops—fragmented, manipulated, used as a weapon of discredit depending on which way the political wind was blowing.

Always the same old tune, Lizbeth thought.

Instead of asking where the problem came from—and how to fix it—they turned it into currency for the political and media circus.

Finally, 2037 arrived.

"Congratulations," she said to herself with a beer in a beach in Okinawa during a break.

She was officially a century old.

There was only a small celebration with her closest friends. She hadn't planned anything, but Mimi Rein and Noki organized a party for her anyway. Van, Oxy, Leon, Gehirn, Nitocris, Emmeline, Milena, Sari, and a few others attended the celebration. A hundred years was a hundred years, it didn't happen every day.

During that meeting, Lizbeth finally met Milena and Sari, who told her about their adventures and losses as well. The poor mermaids had gone through hard times while she had been asleep, but they seemed happy. Over the last few years, she had heard rumors about the two of them, but she had never been able to locate them. They had been living quietly for the last few years on an abandoned island in the Pacific.

Mimi, Milena, and Sari prepared an extra surprise for her, although that happened when the four of them were alone. No one would talk about that.

And the years went by.

And then, in 2042, humanity made the final leap: the first manned mission to Mars. While governments and corporations fought for control of resources on a dying planet, others looked to the sky and wondered if the only answer was to flee with a propulsor in their asses.

In 2043, she was caught off guard when, in the middle of a journey, she was intercepted by a group trying to recruit her.

It was an organization called Wishper, though its members called themselves Wispers—a reference to Will-o'-the-wisp.

Lizbeth had heard of them before. In recent years, they'd gained quite a reputation, as governments appeared to have allied with certain groups to discredit them.

Over time, the Wispers became known for striking at those organizations involved in trafficking feys and other beings from the hidden world.

The network was surprisingly vast, and Lizbeth was astonished to learn it had been founded back in 1995, just a few years after the dissolution of TF—as if they had quietly inherited its mantle.
To some, their motives seemed noble; to others, dangerously naïve. But for Lizbeth, the prospect of more violence held no appeal. She had already made enough enemies. What she wanted now was a quiet life—one without shadows following her every step.

A year later, an operation ended that pressure for Whisper, but Lizbeth only heard the rumors later from when she visited the girls and Leon on their adventures.

But a few years later, someone else came looking for her.

In 2050, Gehirn sought her out. Not as an old friend, or just the little brother, but as someone who was convinced that the future no longer belonged to those who wanted to live in the shadows. He found her in a humanitarian aid center in Angola.

She welcomed him without knowing what he wanted. Obviously, someone as busy as him would not come for a courtesy visit, not when he was so involved with the Aeons issue and designing projects to end the water conflicts between the Tripartite Empire in the north, and South America.

ZAIEN had made many enemies over the last decade by exerting pressure against corporations and helping certain political leaders to restore democracy to countries that were under dictatorship. Even Leon's project in Argentina had had to be moved to Chile to avoid problems, and many of the feys in the first city had to move to the Pacific island.

Lizbeth sat on a container suitcase while they talked. She was covered in dirt from head to toe due to the work she had been doing in the greenhouse garden all day, in stark contrast to Gehirn, who was wearing a spotless white suit.

He spoke of a certain project. A project that, according to him, would define the fate of the fey in the modern world. Lizbeth listened, but her response was immediate.

"Nope."

"Why? Of all people, I thought you would be interested."

"Mate. A bloody organization? Again? In these times?

"Precisely because of the times we live in, this is why we should unite definitively. That way, we could finally move forward with the plan to reveal the hidden world."

"Ger, I've been hearing the same thing for decades. The hour is near, the time will come... And if we finally reveal ourselves, who's to say humanity wouldn't shift the responsibility for what's happening to us, instead of taking accountability for their own shit?"

"You've become a bit cynical, sis. And here I thought that was my role."

Lizbeth looked at him with a wry expression. "Humans prefer to act as a collective mind when it comes to these things. It's easier to blame an external factor, even though the truth inside them is something else. They silence individuality, to prioritize collective feeling."

"That's because we've never united all of us—the espers, the magical community, the fey. Damn it! Even artificial intelligences might join us."

"What do you mean?"

"Let's just say that what happened a few years ago showed that we can unite on a global level."

Lizbeth raised an eyebrow.

"I'm talking about what happened in Russia. And in other countries. Who do you think leaked that information to the press?"

"That Operation Hydra thing?"

"Yep."

"Well, I didn't participate in any of the organizations that did that. I was up to my arse in mud because of the monsoons in Taiwan at the time, helping people. Aside... why do you think we've never united in that way before?"

"Because we're damn disorganized?"

"Well... yes, besides that. But we prefer our individuality to acting collectively, which is why we've never come together as a cohesive whole, even though sometimes we may live in communities."

"That could change. I'm not saying we're going to war. Look at you. You're helping. People like you are what we need."

"Aiding is different from being part of an organization, where I have to follow orders. I prefer doing whatever the fuck I want."

"Sis... no one would force you to do something you don't want to."

"That's what you say now... but, that's the difference between our internal fights and wars, and the world out there."

"What do you mean?"

"We always get involved by our own will, not by orders."

"Yeah, and what does that mean?"

"It means we don't send others to do what we should be doing ourselves."

Gehirn sighed and lowered his head, smiling. "This is for Shin, isn't it?"

"It's not just about Shin, but yes. In this case, he was right. Wars are—"

"Yeah, I know. They're for people who know each other very well, sending people who don't know each other to kill each other. I remember it very well. I was a prisoner too, remember, sis?"

"For that very reason, you should remember it. We have plenty of experience in human conflicts to know that things haven't gone well for us."

"We've triumphed, many times."

"How many have we lost? Honestly, I'm a little tired of losing friends. Doing something like you want, right now, is like spitting into the sky hoping it won't fall on your face."

"I thought you were going to say 'shooting myself in the foot.'"

"Well. It's the same. On the other hand, where would you do this project? In what part of the world that's not on fire, in civil conflict, or engulfed in some kind of shitty corruption? Not even the research centers are safe now."

"I already have a place."

"Where?"

"I can't tell you."

"Don't lie to me."

"I'm not lying. I already have the place... it's just that I need to take care of a few things before making it more... public to others."

"Who knows?"

"Just a few people. This is a project some of us have been thinking about for a long time."

"Does it have a name?"

"The Initiative... Nevermore." Lizbeth turned to look at him, surprised, but didn't say anything, and Gehirn continued. "The name... well, it's from one of the astronomers of the Fog Society, that secret society that also investigated Dark Events. Nevermore is a reference to a unique opportunity in life. To make a difference while we're here."

Lizbeth swallowed. "Whatever. How long do you think it will take until this project ends up in near-suicidal missions?"

"Nevermore would initially focus exclusively on researching the Dark Events. And in the eyes of the public, it will be a research institute and, at the same time, a center for pharmaceutical and technological development. But the organization that supports it would be a multinational."

"More companies? How rich do you want to get?"

"Nevermore would be completely different from ZAIEN. It would be centered on creating a union between humans and our world. That way, in the public eye, it could work."

"It could end in disaster at this point."

"That's why it would take time. I'm not saying it's going to happen tomorrow. It could take... I don't know... a decade. Maybe two. But eventually, the goal is to finally reveal the hidden world. The Dark Events are already known. This could be our chance."

Lizbeth stayed silent for a few moments, thinking about his words. "When you have something more concrete, let me know. At this point, I think I'm doing something good here. I'm not using weapons right now. I'm trying to help a little."

Gehirn looked at the doctors in the nearby tents. "It's precisely because of this that I need people like you. You care, Liz. Otherwise, you wouldn't be helping. Even if you don't accept it, people like you can have leadership."

"I'm not capable of sending others to do something I wouldn't even want to do myself. I'm not that kind of person."

"Exactly."

"I don't want to be in the shoes of the person who takes on that responsibility. I've already seen what it produces over time."

"That's why it's important that it's someone who cares about the lives of those under their charge." Gehirn patted her on the shoulder and stood up. "If you change your mind in the future, let me know. Rein and Noki are interested."

Lizbeth frowned. "Don't even think about forcing them…"

"I'm not forcing them. I won't force anyone. But don't blame me for trying to plant seeds either."

Gehirn walked away, dragging his feet on the wet ground but, after a few meters, Lizbeth stopped him. "Hey!" He turned around and looked at her. "Be careful with what you do. Depending on how it turns out, you could put us all in danger."

Gehirn nodded. "I know. That's why only a handful know about this. You're number nine I've tried to recruit."

"Who are the others? Besides the girls?"

"Secret," he said, and walked away. "See you later."

Lizbeth sighed as she watched him go. "See you later, little brother."

She wasn't interested in being part of a plan whose exact nature they hadn't even fully explained yet.

The imminent fall of the veil. The fact that the feys, espers, and mages could not stay hidden forever. This was a topic often discussed among different groups.

For decades, the internet had been filled with rumors among the public. Leaked videos and theories about immortal beings, creatures with impossible abilities, figures who appeared in one century and then resurfaced in another with the same face. None of this had been taken seriously by governments officially, who preferred to maintain the status quo in secret, but the time of ignorance was coming to an end. Lizbeth knew it. Sooner or later, it would happen.

The 20th century, all things considered, had been an easy period to continue living hidden. But that had been changing in the 21st century. Even most of the feys who lived as nomads would welcome being accepted if they could. But there was also the fear that the opposite could happen.

However, there was a much bigger problem than the mere exposure of the feys. Something that not only the governments but all factions and groups in the world were aware of now. Those inexplicable events. The anomalies that used to occur around Shin. And which was also the main reason why Gehirn had sought her out.

Although no one had given it a name among ordinary people, now it was on everyone's lips.

Now the world knew.

The Dark Events.

Throughout history, there had always been strange phenomena that only the hidden world studied, but what was happening now was different. The events were increasing in number, frequency, and magnitude.

Entire areas would vanish from reality, people would return from the dead with no memory of where they'd been, buildings would twist upon themselves as if geometry had decided to rebel against its own rules. And worst of all: in each Dark Event, the sensation was the same. That the world's reality was much stranger than what many were willing to accept.

Lizbeth could not ignore the gravity of the situation. Even if she didn't want to be part of Gehirn's initiative, she knew something was fundamentally broken in reality. She had felt it in the cracks of the world, in the way time sometimes seemed to hesitate before continuing on its normal course, in the shared dreams with other feys in which they all woke up with the same premonition that something was trying to enter reality. It didn't matter if you were human or fey, what was coming didn't distinguish between races, species or sides.

Still, she wasn't ready to commit to Gehirn, or anyone else. What she had learned over the years was that every time she joined something, it usually ended badly.

So she did what she knew best: tried to help in her own way.

She pulled away from Gehirn and his initiative, and submerged herself in the world of work, just as she had done so many times before.

But even as she distanced herself from Gehirn's idea, a sensation followed her like a persistent shadow.