For a moment, the room was utterly silent.
O5-10's shadowed figure lingered on the screen, staring at James with an unreadable expression. The Overseers were not people one expected to show emotion—detachment was their shield, secrecy their armor. Yet, in this fleeting moment, there was hesitation in the way O5-10 looked at him.
James didn't press the matter. By nature, he was never one to ask questions that failed to spark his interest. But just as he was turning to leave, O5-10's voice broke through the stillness, halting him.
"The Department of Paranormal Archaeology has made a discovery recently."
James blinked in surprise. The words weren't only unexpected for him—they stunned the global audience watching the live broadcast.
"Paranormal Archaeology Department?" he repeated, his brows knitting together.
The viewers flooded the chat with their own questions. Would the Overseers actually involve James again with this mysterious department? Was he being pushed into yet another dangerous anomaly?
Fortunately, O5-10 clarified.
"They have uncovered a lost civilization… one that may fill in the gaps of our knowledge. The Sumerian civilization."
The name hung heavy in the air.
"Sumeria…" James murmured to himself. It sounded familiar, like something whispered in the back of his mind, but the meaning eluded him. After a pause, he asked flatly, "And what does that have to do with me?"
O5-10's answer was chilling.
The Overseer gave a faint, almost sorrowful smile before whispering, "I'm sorry. It's just… there's not much time left. For us—and for you."
And with that cryptic remark, O5-10 vanished, leaving James alone in silence.
---
S.H.I.E.L.D Headquarters
"What the hell?"
Natasha Romanoff crossed her arms, glaring at the monitor. "Why can't these damn riddlers ever say things straight?"
Nick Fury, standing beside her, gave a grunt of reluctant agreement. "Coming from me, that says a lot," he muttered. He was infamous for keeping secrets and speaking in riddles himself, but that didn't mean he enjoyed others doing the same.
Maria Hill, Fury's trusted deputy, raised a brow. "Could it be tied to confidentiality? Maybe O5-10 wasn't allowed to say more."
Fury shot her a look. "If it's really that confidential, why mention it at all?" His one good eye narrowed. "Unless… unless it's tied directly to James."
Before Hill could reply, the screen flickered and shifted.
The image changed to a mysterious chamber filled with shadowed figures—the entire O5 Council.
---
Stark Industries Tower
Tony Stark's jaw dropped. He pointed at the figures materializing one by one.
"One, two, three… ten, eleven, twelve—thirteen?! Are you kidding me?"
Rhodey leaned closer, his face just as shocked. "All thirteen Overseers? Mobilized at the same time?"
This was unprecedented. In the past, only five or six of the Overseers ever appeared in unison, even during crises. For all thirteen to gather now? It meant only one thing: something catastrophic loomed on the horizon.
Rhodey's expression darkened. His mind flickered back to O5-10's haunting words about Sumeria. Could this be what they feared?
---
Inside the O5 Council Meeting
The room was a void of shadows, every Overseer cloaked in secrecy. O5-1 spoke first, his voice deep and commanding.
"You've all heard the log. How far have we progressed?"
O5-3's gruff tone cut through the chamber. "Progress? Are we even sure this isn't just some ancient mythological trash?"
O5-2 countered immediately. "No. It aligns too perfectly with fragments we've recovered from the Nightborne. Those records never made sense before, but now—now they match."
The discussion spiraled into a heated argument.
"We don't know the truth of what we are."
"Are we hypocrites then, pretending to be the guardians of reality?"
"We've always been hypocrites," another Overseer admitted coldly. "That doesn't change what must be done."
"But if those we lock away are the true 'normal,' then what are we?"
"I can't stop now. Turning back would mean every sacrifice—the countless lives lost—was for nothing. And none of us can bear that burden."
The Overseers' voices were heavy with despair, yet undercut with determination.
Then a chilling phrase silenced the chamber.
"So what happens when the Black Moon howls?"
The effect was instantaneous. Every Overseer froze, as if someone had struck a pause button on reality itself.
After several moments, O5-1's grim voice returned.
"Most likely… it means failure. But on such a timescale, even failure can still buy us centuries. We already face hundreds of anomalies that could end the world at any moment. There is no reason to despair. In the meantime, we prepare. We set up alarms. That is all we can do."
---
Global Reactions
The broadcast chat exploded with horrified messages.
"Hundreds of world-ending anomalies?!"
"And he says there's no reason to despair?!"
"No wonder they're called Overseers—they're the only ones who can stay calm in this nightmare."
S.H.I.E.L.D wasn't any calmer. Natasha scowled. "So they're fighting over whether they're hypocrites? And what the hell is this Black Moon Howling nonsense?"
Nick Fury rubbed his chin. Even without seeing their faces, he could feel the anxiety radiating from the Overseers. For the first time, it seemed even they were cornered.
A younger voice, O5-12, finally broke through the silence: "Abnormal or not, what matters is how it threatens our society."
But another Overseer snapped back: "The past shapes the present. If the Sumerians were right, then the Black Moon's howling is inevitable."
O5-10 spoke again, hesitating, his words carefully chosen: "There may still be one chance. A seed. Project Lazarus. Originally a failsafe, but if used now, perhaps it could delay… or even prevent this crisis."
"Seed?" Fury echoed under his breath. His instincts screamed that James was somehow at the center of this.
But how? James was just a researcher—granted, an exceptional one, but still human. How could one man stand against the apocalypse?
Before answers could come, the feed abruptly cut to black.
---
Site-17 Cafeteria
The familiar cafeteria bustled with the usual clamor, but James remained quiet at his table, lost in thought.
Lois slid in beside him, holding a beer. She leaned forward, eyes sharp. "James, tell me straight. Is the Black Moon howling?"
James ignored her, calmly taking the drink.
Lois pressed again, "Well? Does it howl?"
Before James could respond, Zyn sprayed beer foam at Lois in irritation. "For God's sake, stop pestering him. I'm sick of hearing about this."
Lois wiped her face with a grimace, muttering curses, then lowered her voice. "They say the Black Moon Howling is the code name for an Overseer plan. Something big. You heard anything?"
"Boring," Zyn scoffed, downing his drink.
But James's eyes flickered with quiet thought.
Lois perked up again. "The Paranormal Archaeology Department—rumor has it they found something tied to the Sumerians. A project so massive the whole department's working around the clock. But even with my Level 4 clearance, I can't access the details."
Zyn nearly choked. "Level 4? And they're still locking you out? Then it's Overseer-level only."
Lois's frustration burned. "Exactly. Which means this is bigger than anything we've faced recently."
James remained silent, but his gaze sharpened.
---
Later That Night
Back in his dormitory, James sat down heavily. His terminal screen blinked with a new notification.
[Foundation Terminal Online. Please enter your credentials.]
His pulse quickened as he logged in.
Hello, Dr. James. You have (1) new message: Overseer Instructions.
The warning flashed across the screen: Unauthorized access would result in mandatory amnestics, demotion, or termination. Only James was authorized to continue.
He leaned forward, confirming.
Biometric scans ran one after another: facial recognition, retinal scan, palm print, even the RFID chip implanted beneath his skin. Each beep of confirmation brought him closer.
At last, access was granted.
The message appeared.
It was just one sentence, but it was enough to send shockwaves through the live broadcast audience.
[High-level researcher James: You are now authorized to access SCP-2719.]
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