In the dark and stormy sky above Colorado, soars a massive plane moving faster than any commercial jet. The air is turbulent, and in any other circumstance, the plane would be grounded, but this was not any other circumstance. It was a matter paramount to national security, and the president could not be late.

“How certain are we that the video was real?” asks a man in the plane. He’s sat in a luxurious seat, a glass of whiskey in his right hand, and a phone held to his ear in his left.

“We’re as certain as one can reasonably be Mr. President. Even if the result makes no sense, we checked the site, we checked the automated reports on board, and we even had the mathematicians manually check the calculations just to be sure. We even managed to get some private satellite imagery to confirm,” a voice from the phone replies, “As best we can tell, the nuke was launched, followed its trajectory to a T, and detonated on the mark. The satellite image we found even shows the beginning of the explosion…”

“And then?” asks the man in the chair, a frown creasing on his face.

“The next image from a quarter of a second later shows nothing there beyond a little smoke. If I didn’t know better, I’d think someone had set off some dynamite there instead.”

“What about the soil? Did it show residue from the explosion?”

“Yes sir, we found a thin layer of vitrified sand with the correct amount of radioactive residue for if the explosion had magically stopped nearly an instant after it started.”

“Then this organization is real; they can really change the entire power dynamic of the world.”

“That is what appears to be true sir.”

“Fuck… this could either be America's biggest brake, or the end of this nation as we know it!”

The plane landed on a runway deep in the rocky mountains, a runway that doesn’t exist. Had the lights not lit the way, it would have been invisible from the sky. The president exits the plane accompanied by a guard of 5 secret service members, as well as a team of negotiators, scientists, and computer analysts.

He was met off the stairs by another man standing 6’2’’ in a sleek black suit with a striking red tie. The man, too, was accompanied by a small team, though it was only made up of 4 members, one of which seemed to be his secretary.

“Hello, Mr. President, I am Rane, the head of operations for this project of ours. Behind me are the Research Officer, the Integration Officer, and the Operations Officer. Beside me is my assistant and secretary, Martha,” He said while gesturing from left to right to the 3 men behind him, all in the same type of suit, and then he pats the head of the woman standing at his side at a height of 5’8’’, though she’s 5’11’’ in her heels, with black hair and pale white skin.

“Hello, Mr. Rane. What specifically is this project that you refer to, and what is the name of the organization you are a part of?” The President asks.

“Ah, yes, I can see your curiosity. The project will be what we discussed after I’ve brought you into the facility. As for my organization, for the purposes of further coordination, you may refer to us as Penumbra,” He says before turning and walking toward the facility beside the runway. He gestures for the president to follow him as he walks.

“Much of our project must remain secret, even to you. However, some of it, some of it I can disclose in the interest of smoother operations. With that said, should you choose to work with us, I’ll have to ask you to bring along Zintar here, or else the entire cooperation may fail,” he said, patting the man earlier identified as the Integration officer on the shoulder.

They discussed many aspects of the operation that Penumbra was undertaking, with many more being left unsaid. After an hour of talk, and a number of demonstrations that appeared to defy the rules of the world as understood by man, despite showing a brave face, the president was deeply afraid of the man standing 4 feet across from him. He learned early on that the gesture of bringing bodyguards was a meaningless one, as even the secretary was likely capable of annihilating his whole team within a blink of an eye.

“With all that I have shown you, I’m sure you understand that we have no need of you and your government. Working with you is merely the easiest and safest method available to us. To that end, are you willing to listen to my requests?”

“I think you’ll find that our aid will be much greater than you predict.”

“Well, it is in your own best interest if you are right. The first order of business is for you to help us in the development of a working virtual world and the means to give access to it to the masses,” the man said, a serious look on his face.

“I see. Well, this will be something that can be discussed further with the experts back in Washington, but I do have the authority to agree to work with you, and I will make sure to have the agreement passed to ensure ongoing support. That aside, for this to work, you will need to set up a corporate face that can partner with the government,” says the president, still maintaining his straight face, if only just.

“I see, that makes sense. I will discuss it with my team,” Rane replied before standing up and walking to the president, his hand outstretched. The president grasps his hand firmly, and they shake twice.

As the president turned to leave, he saw what almost looked like a tail slip out from under the secretary's skirt. Before he could question it, his security team had surrounded him, guiding him back to Airforce One.

[2 years later]

[Research Triangle Park, July 15, 2029]

The president watched the screen in front of him with a mix of fear and awe. The tablet showed the battle of two combatants on an endless grassy field. On the right side was a woman in a sports bra and spandex shorts. She has skin pale as snow, hair black as night, and a pair of black cat ears poking from atop her head. Behind her swayed a pitch-black cat tail, wiggling in agitation as she came skidding to a stop after being launched by the other combatant.

On the left was a man in a grey robe, the hood hiding his features. He stood around 6’3’’, holding a gnarled wooden staff in his hand. The woman on the right charged again, tensing her fingers as her nails extended to claws. The hooded man responds by beginning to chant in a language incomprehensible to both the president and all the language analysts he’s hired. The woman continued her charge, undaunted. As the distance shrunk to the point where she was but a single stride from striking the man, her clawed hands uplifted in preparation for her attack; the grey-robed man lifted his staff and smashed it back into the ground.

What followed could only be described as complete annihilation. From the ground came a spike of stone directed at the cat woman, interrupting her strike. Distracted, she did not notice the bolt of lightning that came from the head of the staff. The lightning struck before the stone spike hit her, allowing it to easily penetrate her defenses. Yet even being skewered was not the end, as the spike of stone exploded, sending stone shrapnel in all directions, turning the Cat woman to mist and scattered remains. Even this was not enough to affect the Grey-robed man, as a shield of light protected him from all the incoming projectiles.

“And you're saying that reaching a similar mastery of the magic in this game will allow for them to understand the technology behind the stunt with the nuke?” The president asked, stunned at the graceless defeat of the fierce woman. She had shown that she could outmatch most teams of armed and trained personnel, inside the game or not, yet she could not even touch the man.

“That is correct. It was the guiding principle behind the design of the magic system; it is meant to teach as much of the fundamental principles of the technology as possible while still being attainable to learn and yet impossible to put together on your own,” Zintar replied.

“I see, so what’s next?”

“Next, we start to collaborate with other companies to help explore the possibilities of our technology while we bring the VR pod to completion. We can announce their existence in a month's time, with a tentative release date of 7 months.”

“Understood. Should we announce the participation of Penumbra in the project?”

“No, we will wait till the announcement of its completion. That way, it won’t skew the perspective of the people we work with unnecessarily.”

“I’ll let my staff know. I look forward to seeing the results of this project. I can see America reaching a new Golden Age,” said the president as he turned around and left the office.

“Alas, even in his open-mindedness, he still thinks far too small,” Zintar said, shaking his head.