The Coronation In the grand hall of what was once the UN General Assembly, now redecorated with gold-plated columns and crimson velvet drapery, Donald Trump stood before a hastily assembled crowd of diplomats, journalists, and loyal supporters. The date was July 4, 2026, exactly eighteen months after his second inauguration as President of the United States. “Nobody’s ever seen anything like this before, believe me,” Trump announced, his voice echoing through the cavernous space.
Maria Delgado’s boots crunched on the scorched earth of The Gauntlet, her pulse hammering as drones buzzed overhead, their lenses glinting like vultures’ eyes. The air was thick with dust and desperation. Somewhere beyond the razor-wire horizon was citizenship—a new life for her and her daughter, Sofia, detained six years ago in a border camp. At 42, Maria’s body ached, but her resolve was iron. She’d survived Guatemala’s violence, the coyotes’ betrayal, and now this televised nightmare.
Operation Frozen Assets is hopefully A Fictional Story. We will see. March 15, 2026 - The Oval Office President Trump drummed his fingers on the Resolute Desk, his eyes fixed on the satellite imagery spread before him. The newly discovered rare earth mineral deposits beneath Greenland’s melting ice sheets glowed like digital treasure on the high-resolution scans. “Beautiful deposits. The most beautiful. Everyone’s saying it,” he muttered to himself. The Joint Chiefs shifted uncomfortably in their seats as the President continued studying the intelligence reports.
Maya pulled her scarf tighter against the November chill as she walked past the shuttered storefronts on Main Street. Three years ago, these shops had been bustling—the hardware store where her father had worked for decades, the pharmacy that extended credit to locals during tough times, the family-owned grocery where produce came from farms just outside town. Now, paper signs reading “CLOSED” or “RELOCATING” covered their windows. The few businesses still operating displayed stickers with dramatically higher prices than she remembered from her childhood.
Michael Chen stared at the notification on his phone. His diabetes medication had gone up another 15% this month. He closed the pharmacy app and glanced around the small studio apartment he’d been renting since selling his house. The worn couch that doubled as his bed, the kitchenette with its single burner stove, the piles of cardboard boxes he still hadn’t found the energy to unpack—all of it felt surreal compared to where he’d been just two years ago.
Sophia Rodriguez adjusted her AR glasses and gazed out from her office on the 47th floor of the Austin tech district. The Texas sunset cast a golden glow across the skyline, where construction cranes dotted the horizon—each one building another data center, semiconductor facility, or AI research lab. Even with the market’s volatility, Austin had grown another 3% this year, its economy seemingly operating in a different reality from much of the country.
A story set in 2028, the final year of Trump’s presidency PART I - The Dividing Line Eliza Chen stood at her apartment window overlooking San Francisco’s skyline. The city had changed dramatically in the three years since she’d moved from Pittsburgh. New gleaming towers dominated the view—most belonging to AI and tech companies that had only grown more powerful since the trade war began in 2025. She sipped her coffee and checked her smartwatch.
Marcus Rivera stared at the eviction notice taped to his apartment door in Detroit. It was the third one this year, but this time he knew there would be no reprieve. The $1,450 due was more than he had in his bank account, and the overtime shifts at the auto parts factory had dried up three weeks ago when the new automation system went live. He pulled the notice down and entered his apartment, tossing it onto the kitchen counter alongside a pile of past-due medical bills from his mother’s hospital stay.
Ethan Parker stared at the sea of monitors glowing with lines of code, the blue light flickering across his tired face. Twenty years in the industry, countless late nights, and a resume packed with accomplishments hadn’t prepared him for this. The whispers about layoffs had started weeks ago, gaining traction with every all-hands meeting and every vague email from management. HelixTech, the company where Ethan had spent the past seven years of his career, was embracing AI in a way that made even seasoned engineers like him uneasy.
Title: Tomorrow’s Shadows The dim glow of a single bulb swung lazily in the cramped apartment, casting long shadows on the peeling walls. Diego sat on the frayed couch, his hands clasped tightly together, his thoughts a storm he couldn’t calm. The whispers had started earlier that afternoon—warnings passed in cautious tones, glances exchanged with growing fear. Tomorrow, they said, immigration officers were coming. A sweep, they called it, to find people like him.
Angela locked the door to her modest home for the third time that evening. The deadbolt clicked into place, but it didn’t quiet the unease gnawing at her. She adjusted the curtains, making sure there was no gap for prying eyes. Outside, the streetlights cast eerie glows on the empty road, their flickers doing little to brighten the oppressive night. The news had hit earlier that day like a thunderclap: President Trump had pardoned Enrique Tarrio, Stewart Rhodes, and others convicted in connection with the January 6 Capitol riot.