Liquidation

CHAPTER: The Liquidation By 2023, the shadows that had always circled Evan Love Riot and Veda Viral finally closed in. What had once been whispers, covert encounters, and spectral deals at the edges of known reality became brutally tangible. The Agency had no interest in subtlety anymore. Agent houses—quiet suburban facades scattered across Virginia—were the first to be struck. Places that once looked like ordinary family homes revealed their true purpose. Inside, false walls cracked open to disclose stacks of classified archives, surveillance equipment, and caches of black-market tech. One by one, these safe havens were liquidated. The pattern was clear: burn the old fronts, erase the old lives, and consolidate what remained. It wasn’t just the Agency’s infrastructure. Evan’s parents’ house, too—once a sanctuary of rebellion, secrecy, and ritual—was stripped of its history. Files that had been hidden beneath floorboards vanished in unmarked vans. Furniture carried the ghosts of rituals, seances, and unspoken family alliances, but it was hauled away as if it were meaningless. The liquidation was more than a financial maneuver; it was an act of cleansing. A severing of roots. Yet from destruction came induction. The purge of those houses was not meant to erase Evan and Veda—it was meant to absorb them. The Agency had learned long ago that some assets can’t be neutralized, only weaponized. And so, under the cover of bureaucratic liquidation, Evan and Veda were formally inducted. Their old names lingered only in whispers, but on paper they were now registered, stamped, and filed into the black-roster of official assets. No longer rogue operators. No longer expendable shadows. Indoctrinated through fire and dispossession, they were brought into the system’s bloodstream. Their music was classified as a cultural weapon; their rituals catalogued as “experimental methodologies.” They weren’t just performers anymore—they were state-sanctioned conduits, unwitting yet undeniable. Holtfaction had entered its most dangerous phase: legitimized illegitimacy. By 2023, every note they struck was monitored, every word they uttered filed. And yet, beneath the surface of bureaucratic assimilation, a deeper truth burned: if the Agency thought it had absorbed them, it had underestimated the dark resonance of Holtfaction’s sound. Because the liquidation was not an end. It was a transformation. And the real storm—the one neither Agency nor Church nor Kremlin could control—was just beginning to form.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

TRIANGLE CONCLAVE

TRIANGLE CONCLAVE “That which watches from the shadows never blinks, never sleeps, and never forgets.” —From the Book of Harmonics, classified Holtfaction files, Page 66 The photograph, retrieved from a burned-out embassy safehouse in Montenegro, had been thought to be a myth—an artist’s rendering from fringe conspiracy forums. But Evan Love Riot knew better. This was no painting. No digital fantasy. This was documentation. The scene depicted a massive chamber—dim, smoke-laced, cavernous—with a vaulted ceiling that resonated like the inside of a cathedral. A circle of men in finely tailored suits sat at a polished obsidian table, their faces lit only by the soft, infernal glow of a great triangular monolith rising at the room’s center. And on that pyramid: the Eye. The Eye of Providence, yes, but this was no symbol. This was a living mechanism. A construct. And behind it, the ancient power that had watched the world long before nations, before time. A sentient observer kno...
Read more

The National Harbor Nexus (2019)

Image
THE HIDDEN FILES OF HOLTFACTION Chapter 7: The National Harbor Nexus (2019) The moment the timelines converged, the shadow program trembled. August 2019. The Gaylord National Resort stood gleaming over the Potomac like a fortress of glass, its conference halls crawling with industry professionals, influencers, and covert operatives disguised in pumps, flat irons, and impeccable balayage. It was the International Hair Symposium—a cover event often used by embedded assets to exchange encoded intelligence, biometric facial scans, and magnetic implants disguised as product samples. Evan Love Riot arrived under a forged Paul Mitchell credential, carrying a duffel bag of contraband hairspray cans—each rigged to transmit infrared pulses that only KGB satellites could detect. His mission: embed himself into the underground Slavic stylist circuit, rumored to be laundering encrypted communication through online booking platforms. His past with the CIA and the events of 2016 made him the perf...
Read more

The Rift House Shift

Image
The Rift House Shift Vienna, Virginia — Autumn 2019 The townhouse looked unassuming from the outside. A boxy, colonial shell tucked into the quiet backroads of Vienna. But to Veda Viral and Evan Love Riot, it would become something else entirely — The Rift House. It began with a sound. Not one heard with the ears — but a low-frequency rumble felt in the marrow, as if the Earth’s core was coughing. That night, they had returned from a local music showcase, hearts still vibrating from a setlist that shouldn’t have existed. One of the opening bands played a song Evan swore he wrote in a dream — years before. Veda didn’t remember ever hearing it, but recited the lyrics perfectly as if they’d been tattooed on her nervous system. They tried to sleep, but the walls pulsed. At exactly 3:03 AM, a sensation surged through them — a drop to the left, like gravity had suddenly become a spiral, and the air had gained density. Not motion sickness, not vertigo… displacement. Both agents sat u...
Read more