Chapter 1: THE CALM BEFORE THE STORM | Chapter 2: RISING TENSIONS IN VANCOUVER | Chapter 3: THE HEART OF CORRUPTION | Chapter 4: THE FALL OF VANCOUVER | Chapter 5: CONFRONTATION AND COLLAPSE
The city of Ottawa, once the heartbeat of Canadian democracy, had fallen silent. Under the looming threat of True North Front violence, Parliament declared a state of emergency. Prime Minister Poilievre, who had once promised stability, now stood as little more than a puppet—his strings pulled by the TNF-aligned elites who had orchestrated the downfall of Canada’s government.
Martial law was declared in the name of restoring order, but it only served to tighten Frost’s grip on the nation. Tanks rolled through the streets, and soldiers with TNF patches on their uniforms patrolled every corner. The police, once seen as protectors, now stood as enforcers of Frost’s rule. Lawlessness was rampant, but it was only the law of the wolves.
In Vancouver, the destruction was complete. The once-vibrant immigrant communities were shattered, their homes burned to the ground, and families scattered like ashes on the wind. The streets that had once been filled with diversity and hope were now hunted down, their efforts smothered by the TNF’s unrelenting purge.
Aisha was presumed dead. The last reports indicated that she had led a final, desperate stand in Chinatown, trying to protect the last refuge of displaced families. But when Alex searched for any trace of her, all that remained were burned-out buildings and empty streets.
Alex had failed.
Now a fugitive, Alex moved like a ghost through the remnants of Ottawa. His name was no longer just a headline—it was a death sentence. The last remnants of the underground resistance had been crushed, and Alex, once a journalist, now had nothing left but the desperate urge to escape.
He had no plan. No destination. Just the cold, suffocating knowledge that the world he had known was gone.
Late one evening, Alex headed north after stealing a truck from a TNF checkpoint. He drove for hours through the desolate roads, the landscapes blurred by his unsteady hands on the wheel. He crossed the border into the Arctic wilderness, leaving behind the last scraps of civilization.
It was here, in the freezing silence of the tundra, that he would disappear—lost to a country that no longer recognized him.
Back in Ottawa, the broadcast came through. It was Malcolm Frost’s voice, cold and unyielding.
“This is the beginning of a New Canada,” Frost declared, his image looming over the screen like a harbinger of doom. His face was grim, but there was an unsettling confidence in his eyes. “A Canada purified of foreign influence, of those who seek to destroy the fabric of this nation. We are reclaiming what is rightfully ours. The wolves come to restore order. This is our home now. And it will be kept safe from those who seek to tear it apart.”
The words fell like a heavyweight, suffocating the remnant of hope that still clung to Alex’s chest.
He sat in the truck, the cold pressing against the windows, the radio silent now except for the static.
The wolves hadn’t just come.
Alex closed his eyes, leaning back against the headrest. He thought of Vancouver—of Aisha, of the families, of the streets he had once walked with David. And then he thought of David, now lost entirely to the wolves.
“We opened the door for them,” Alex whispered to the empty truck. “We chose to let them in.”
And now, there was no way out.