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Ellie had been watching cartoons when the news broke on September 5, 2021. At first, she thought something was wrong with her TV since every channel kept playing the same news feed about a group of strange-looking scientist types making a presentation at the UN. She didn't really understand what was going on, but her mom was very upset about it and was pacing back and forth while on the phone with her dad, who was coming back from work.

They were talking about going to Walmart and buying a bunch of things. Ellie tried asking her mom if she could have a toy she'd seen on TV, but her mother ignored her and continued talking with her dad. Her tone was weird, and even though she was only 8 years old, Ellie could tell something was wrong with the way her mother was talking.

Her dad didn't make it home on time like he usually did that day. He was two hours late. Said that the traffic was unbelievable and that everyone was out on the street. Her mother hadn't cooked dinner and stayed watching the TV the entire time they waited for her dad to come home. Ellie was hungry.

But there was no time for her to eat. Her family quickly piled into their car and spent an hour stuck in traffic, the entire time listening to the same thing about what the “anomalous” was based on the presentation at the UN. She didn't even know what the UN was, but more importantly, her parents never listened to the radio before.

Once they got to Walmart, they found the parking lot almost full. Her dad barely managed to find a space all the way in the back, so they had to walk all the way to the store. Once they made it inside, all Ellie could see was chaos. The shelves where food normally was were largely empty. What few goods remained were being fought over by adults. Her parents exchanged horrified looks.

On the way home, her parents were eerily quiet as they listened to the broadcast one more time. A man calling himself Dr. Dan was explaining to the UN, whoever they were, that things like elves, demons, aliens, and a whole bunch of other words Ellie didn’t understand were all real. That there had been an organization called the Foundation that had hidden these things from the world for at least the last hundred years. The people in the audience erupted at that point – she later understood these to be ambassadors, but at the time she didn’t get why the people were so angry at the sad sounding man. When they stopped the yelling he said that they were stepping out of the shadows to support this new understanding and help the weird feel more normal. They called themselves Vanguard. Ellie didn’t know what that meant either but they sounded like superheroes.

She asked her mother if that meant there really were fairies in the wood like grandma had said. Her mother turned around from the front passenger seat and grabbed her hands.

“Baby, don’t you dare go in the woods anymore. You hear me? If that man is telling the truth, there are monsters out there. And I can’t stand the idea of you getting hurt. Promise me!” She gripped Ellie’s hands so hard they hurt, and wouldn’t let go until Ellie promised to stay out of the woods. She’d never heard her mother panic before.

When they got home, Ellie didn't eat dinner that night. She didn’t sleep much either.

Maxwell had never been to a protest before. He'd also never violated martial law either, but there was a first time for everything, he thought. He grabbed his sign; a piece of cardboard glued to a 2x4, and adjusted his face mask. A knock at the door let him know that his friends had arrived to escort him to the Berkeley campus. He opened the door and was unable to tell who was who, as they were all wearing balaclavas or face masks. Together, they set out towards the college.

They could hear the commotion from blocks away. Hundreds of voices screaming for more clarity from the government regarding the situation with anomalies and what the SCP Foundation was, and whether Vanguard could be trusted. Every now and then the police would respond with threats and orders to disperse through their megaphones, but that only seemed to infuriate the crowd more. Maxwell and his friends found themselves at the very back of the mass of people but joined in the chants no less.

The crowd grew bigger and bigger as time passed, with more and more students and other locals joining the chant. As Maxwell understood it, this was just one of many protests taking place across the country at the same time. The people were confused and scared, and this, he felt, was the only natural response to those emotions. Everything seemed to be going well; things were relatively peaceful for a protest.

It didn’t last.

At some point in the night, there was an altercation between a protestor and a riot cop, as the officer shoved the protestor to the floor. This enraged the crowd, and they responded in kind by shoving the officer as well. The police didn’t take kindly to this and moved to arrest the protestor responsible, who was quickly absorbed by the crowd. The police responded by unleashing a barrage of rubber bullets and tear gas into the crowd.

There was screaming, and violent shoving coming from the front of the crowd where Maxwell was standing. Something had happened, and the protestors were fleeing the police. The force of the shoving separated Maxwell from his friends and threw him to the ground, causing his glasses to fly from his face onto the cold pavement. Someone stepped on them, as people jumped over Maxwell or trampled over him in their attempt to escape the police.

The last thing Maxwell saw before losing consciousness was a man running with a flaming bottle, tossing it at the encroaching police.

He woke up thirty minutes later as a medic looked him over. The medic had a green armband with a big V on it instead of the usual red cross iconography. He asked the man what was happening.

“We’re with Vanguard, and we’re here to help.”

The medic finished treating the small head wound Maxwell had gotten and eased him to his feet before pushing him in the direction of his friends. He looked around, the cops were pushed back against their barricades, and there was a sort of no-man’s land maintained by some sort of soldier. Each wore the same V on an armband. Maxwell’s friends supported his weight and started dragging him away but he resisted. He called out to the nearest soldier, “HEY WHO GIVES YOU THE RIGHT?”

The soldier stopped and looked back at him, she was only twenty-five maybe, but Maxwell could see she had been through some horrible stuff. That being said, she didn’t yell back at him. She smiled and said, “We’re just keeping the peace. The announcement caused a lot of chaos and we’re trying to mitigate, because maybe we’re responsible. Vanguard is here to help though. Just take care of yourself.”

His friend dragged him away down the street, but all he could think about was how nice they seemed. Which felt really out of place for some sort of secret police conspiracy the internet said they were.

Xenia idled on the couch in xer apartment, watching daytime television. It wasn't that xe didn't have anything else to do, but xe was sick with the flu and essentially out of commission. So xe was spending xer day watching talk shows and wishing xe would feel better already.

"… and our next guest is a highly esteemed member of Vanguard with an intimidating title, but never fear she’s nice. Please welcome Alison Chao, the Black Queen!"

The audience clapped.

A woman wearing a custom-made skirt suit and tie walked onto the set, guarded by a couple of people in robes. Each had a pin on the lapel like politicians wear but instead of a flag, it was an ornate green V. Chao shook hands with the host and sat down, taking a sip from a coffee mug on the table in front of her.

"Hello, Your Highness, it's a pleasure to have you here on the show today. How are you doing?"

"I'm doing well, all things considered. But you really don’t have to with the ‘Your Highness’ stuff. I’m not royalty. Just another hardworking member of Vanguard bureaucracy."

The woman talked about magic and anomalies, about something called the Wanderers' Library and how they had set up a visitor’s center within not too long ago. Psssh. Magic.

“When Vanguard was originally formed, my organization, known as the Serpent’s Hand – think of us like the equivalent of the ACLU for magic – joined up with Vanguard. At least most of us did.”

“Was there conflict with that?”

“Some, I’ll be honest. We’ve faced an uphill battle from the public and those who were involved with the anomalous. The Foundation was not much trusted, as they were the ones keeping the weird contained and hidden away. But I believed in what they were doing and signed up, and a lot of my people came with me. Not to mention the support of my sisters.”

Chao winks at the audience and the camera turns to see a dozen different Alison Chaos in the audience, dressing various ways. Xenia choked on xer water. What in the fuck? Xe blinked and leaned forward, grabbing xer medicine bottle to skim the side effects. Nothing about hallucinations. Xe blinked and sat back again, sniffling.

"That's wonderful! And we’re glad to have them with us! What were you saying about the ACLU?”

“Well, the Foundation used to cage anyone different away to shield the wider public from the anomalous, and that includes magic. The Serpent’s Hand was a loosely organized group of volunteers looking to stop that. We wanted to change the status quo and make everyone aware of the wonders we lived amongst.”

“Sounds like it was dangerous!”

“It could be, but we were just as interested in diplomatic missions as we were taking action. The reality is, Vanguard is what the Serpent’s Hand has been fighting for all these years. We just want people to know what kind of world they really live in. What normalactually means.”

“That’s all fascinating, but I'm sure I’m not alone in wondering, what happened to bring the Foundation… or I guess I should say Vanguard into the spotlight last year? According to documents you’ve published from the SCP Foundation, you are ready to declassify that information to the public."

"I'm glad you asked, Helen, and yes we're ready to tell what happened. Over the last year, we’ve been trying to get the word out about the anomalous. Maybe you’ve seen some of our ad campaigns or heard one of the podcasts we produced, but the main point is that a lot of the stuff humanity has convinced itself were myths had some basis in truth and a lot of other stuff besides. Vanguard felt it was time to shed the secrecy of the Foundation. But when we all learned that the magic was dying, that the anomalous was being killed off because the Foundation had been keeping things so quiet for so long, my colleagues and I decided it was time for something new. Which is where Vanguard comes in. Something to Shelter, Normalize, and Inform the public and the anomalous world."

“And when you say the magic was dying, I assume you’re being poetic.”

“Not at all, Helen. I was being 100% literal. The Foundation had contained anything they arbitrarily decided wasn’t ‘normal’ and hid it from the world. They even erased memories and engaged in wide-ranging conspiracies to do it. But when the Foundation decided to dissolve because its very existence was hurting the world, Vanguard was formed. These days we are less a conspiracy and more a PR group.”

Crowd laughs.

“And what do you say to the detractors, like the Global Occult Coalition? Aren’t they supported by the UN?”

Chao laughs herself.

“Well that’s the thing, Helen, are they supported by the UN? The GOC has always claimed it was part of it, but its members aren’t UN Member states. They aren’t beholden to any elected officials and they’re entirely a paramilitary force that determines their own goals. If anything, I’d say Vanguard and GOC are equally credible, in terms of authority. The only difference is, we told you the truth and they had to be dragged into it kicking and–”

A knocking at the door. It must be xer boyfriend with the pizza he promised. Xe shut off the television and got up to open the door.

"Are you or a loved one having trouble remembering things? Are you unable to recall certain periods of your life as far as fifty years ago? Do you suffer from memory blackouts? You may have been a victim of amnestic abuse on behalf of the SCP Foundation. Call the number on the screen now to see if you qualify to get compensation from Vanguard. We promise to attempt to reverse the memory wipes, and even if we can’t to inform you of the events you were cheated of. Don't wait, call toda—" The TV was switched to a different channel; a football match between Arsenal and Chelsea.

"So what do you reckon, Lars? Think you'll join in?" The bartender put down the remote behind the counter, looking back to the man nursing a scotch at the bar.

"That's a right proper load of wank. I don’t know why anyone would want their memories returned from this shit. I mean, from what I’ve read most of the time the Foundation amnesticated you it was because something you saw was a nightmare. I don’t know about you, love, but I ain’t interested in remembering no boogie men." Lars took a sip of his lager.

“Still, I know that missing memory thing used to bother you. Them Foundation blokes clearly did a piss poor job. Might want to sign up just to see if they can give you a pay out.”

“So, they can get my information into their creepy database? No bleeding way.”

"That's how they get you." Both he and the bartender said in unison.

"Ex-fucking-actly. You get all bothered expecting a big payout but so do the other million tossers in the queue, and you only get enough for a pint after the lawyers get their pound of flesh."

"Damn right. Fuck the Foundation and Vanguard. Fuck it all."

"I'll drink to that."

And he did.

Grace felt the therapist’s eyes on her as she stared up at the ceiling. There wasn’t a couch in the tradition sense but a big reading chair and she tended to fold herself into it and lean back when thinking about how to answer.

Dr. Priva cleared her throat.

“I’m thinking about it, ok? Jesus,” Grace said.

“Take your time, it’s your hour.”

She closed her eyes and slowly leaned forward back towards the therapist and the conversation, letting out a deep sigh.

“It’s just, you grow up thinking conspiracies are all bullshit weirdos obsess over or worse, something racist as hell. I went to college, I read books, I know how the world works. Or at least, I did. But then out of nowhere, we’re got a crusty old dude addressing the United Nations saying the Fae are real and they live off the coast of Ireland on an invisible island, that there’s a giant eel in the Atlantic ocean like fucking Godzilla, and not only are there aliens, we’ve been visited numerous times. Not to mention endless other shit I have no idea how to understand.”

She sighed again.

“Conspiracies were supposed to be bullshit. I was allowed to ignore them. But now I can’t because, maybe they were always real. Except the anti-Semitic ones obviously. Big-foot? Probably. Loch Ness? Assume so. Hell, those aren’t even the weird ones. What the fuck is a Fifthist believe anyway?”

“Maybe we could shy away from oppressing someone’s religion in these sessions,” Dr. Priva said with a smile.

Grace laughed. “I didn’t mean it that way, I just literally don’t understand what they’re talking about. And half the time you hear someone preaching that stuff on a corner there’s actually smoke coming from their eyes. From their eyes, doc!”

She was quiet a moment but sobbed a bit. “I just miss when the greatest fear I had was failing a test or not getting that raise I was promised. I’m sure I had the anxiety before, but it wasn’t ever like this. How do you feel normal in a world where normal includes flesh-warping viruses and millennium-old cults practicing magic?”

"And with that, I welcome the graduating class of 2035 to move their tassels from the right to the left. Congratulations, graduates! The world awaits you!" The Grand Mashal of the University of Miami spoke over the microphone, quickly overtaken by uproarious applause from the friends and families of the graduates. Ellie turned around and threw her cap in the air with the rest of her classmates.

Minutes later, she was taking pictures with her mom and dad outside the football stadium, a whole world of possibilities awaiting her. Of course, there were plenty of recruiters present as well, from branches of the military to tech companies looking to snatch up brilliant young minds. Present among them, however, was Vanguard and the Global Occult Coalition, quietly seething at each other. Not that they hadn't been there before the veil fell, it’s just that they were open about it now. Normalizing the anomalous had become routine subject on the nightly news or social media over the last fifteen years. Ellie was looking forward to joining the workforce or going onto grad school, but she had another plan for that summer.

Like a not insignificant number of her class, she had taken an internship at a Vanguard Lighthouse, where she would be spreading the word of the anomalous on a PR team, or giving guided tours.

When it comes right down to it, the world had changed that October all those years ago. For people like her, and a whole bunch of people nothing like her. She was excited to take part, not just hear about it on the news. Ellie waved at the Vanguard recruiter who she’d just handed in her paperwork to. Towns like Portland, Oregon had been spouting slogans like “Keep Portland Strange” for a long time. But the whole world was strange now.

And it was exciting as hell.