Pierre Marchais had spent a dreadful night due to the commotion outside his building. A group of individuals armed with flaming torches, likely consisting of a stick and a cloth soaked in gasoline, had managed to break into Gégé's establishment downstairs without him being able to do anything about it. He had discreetly observed them from his windows, fearing they might then decide to visit nearby residences. Fortunately, they had left quickly, not because law enforcement was arriving, but because they were too burdened to steal more goods.

He found Gégé in the early morning sitting at one of his tables outside his establishment, a terrible look on his face. His eyes were red, a sign that this brave man had cried. Who could honestly claim they would remain stoic in these circumstances?

"Ah, hi Gégé," said Pierre with a compassionate voice as he approached the devastated man. "I'm really sorry about your bar."

"Thank you, Pierrot. Did you see anything from your place?"

"Just that there were many of them. I couldn't do anything."

"Don't worry," whispered the Breton as he lit a new cigarette. "It's just property damage."

Pierre looked inside the shop, and indeed everything was broken, especially the dishes. Everything they could carry had disappeared, especially the bottles of alcohol, and the rest had been destroyed. Gérard Caroff had good reasons to be devastated and to harbor deep resentment toward those who had done this. His shop looked like a battlefield.

"Any idea of the losses?" asked the trader with a complicated expression.

"No idea. All my dishes are smashed, they went wild on my machines and bottles, and they raided my fridge. Frankly, I think the amount will be at least six figures. Of course, insurance won't cover anything. They'd go bankrupt given the damages. The only positive point is that they didn't set fire on their way out and they didn't bother to search the cellar. Anyway, there's hardly anything there except a few bottles and beer kegs."

I feel sorry for Gégé. Those bastards destroyed everything! And from what I see, he's not the only victim.

Indeed, his street had been deeply scarred by the riots. More than just unfortunate, this sight was revolting.

Ah… But I have to think of myself first! Electricity still hasn't been restored, and people are becoming more and more unhinged. Yes! I need to gather as much food as possible, water, and if possible, medication. You never know.

Pierre, very serious whenever he put on his trader hat, had been young and played a few survival games. He knew the first moments were crucial. He also knew how to differentiate between what was necessary and what wasn't. And he didn't doubt for a single moment that the rest of the Parisians had come to the same conclusions as him. Fortunately, or at least he saw it that way, he had no wife or children, not even a pet. He had always lived alone since he had left the family home many years ago.

He was a little sad about it, but he wasn't very close to his parents. When he had decided to leave the province for the capital, he had let a gap widen between them to the point where they only saw each other two or three times a year. They lived a peaceful life in Normandy, far from the hustle and bustle of big cities. Pierre, on the other hand, loved it when things were lively, seeing people and quickly finding the services he needed. Country life didn't appeal to him at all. However, he had said to himself the night before that if electricity wasn't restored by the next morning, it would mean it wouldn't come back in the following weeks, and he would have to take drastic measures to get by.

Damn it! I never imagined having to do this. Am I really going to have to behave like one of those thugs?!

Many hadn't been as patient as him and had already helped themselves to the shelves of shopping malls and supermarkets. The scene of chaos he had witnessed the day before made him understand that a dam had burst, and from then on, it was every man for himself. There were no more red lines. Thanks to his good upbringing, he could still distinguish it, yet he would have to cross it.

Oddly enough, when he anticipated the decisions he would have to make for his own good, this one wasn't the most painful.

I'll have to leave Paris for a while, until the crisis passes. It's probably only for a few weeks, but still...

As soon as he arrived at the Monoprix, a feeling of bitterness seized Pierre when he saw that the shelves he was interested in had been largely emptied. Some had even been overturned, indicating the violence of the looting since the power outage. The tiled floor was covered with empty packaging, debris, and trampled food remnants. Parisians hadn't forgotten to help themselves from the storeroom. Anything that could be consumed had been taken. Only products deemed non-essential remained, like scented trinkets, toys, products too heavy to be carried, or anything that hadn't survived the power outage, like frozen products. Because the looters hadn't bothered to close the malfunctioning fridges after their visit, everything had started to thaw and melt.

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My God, it looks like a hurricane swept through here… I should have come earlier.

Despite the sorry state of the store, there were still people there searching for provisions or anything that could be useful. Everyone, including Pierre, walked quickly between the aisles to find the product they needed first. A palpable tension emanated from the people he crossed paths with. Their fleeting and wary glances made him feel like an intruder, as if he represented a threat in this precarious balance. As they sought to preserve their meager findings, Pierre quickly noticed that they were watching closely what he picked up. All faces were filled with that dangerous mix of fear, anger, and envy. More than once, he thought he would have to fight, either to defend himself or to take what someone else had found.

He prioritized deodorant, toothpaste, clothes more or less in his size, thinking that soon all his clothes would be dirty. Then he went to the outdoor section, which had been relatively spared, and took as many seeds as possible to grow vegetables as soon as he settled somewhere. All those who had come before him had searched for ready-to-eat food and had set aside anything that could be used to grow it because they were in a hurry and therefore thinking short-term.

"Pierre?" a voice full of surprise said behind the trader, who turned around upon hearing his name.

"David?!"

His surprise was great when he saw David Marinot, aka the Geek, with a katana at his belt and a cart full of food.

"A-are you carrying a katana?!"

"Hehe, yes. It's quite effective for deterring thieves. Hu? Didn't you take anything to defend yourself?" David asked, surprised.

"To defend myself?"

"You should," David replied immediately, looking serious. "Remember our discussions, don't you?"

Of course, I remember! You were joking about what you'd do in case of a zombie apocalypse or alien invasion!

"What are the five things necessary to survive when everything goes to hell?" David asked, looking serious as a teacher would with his student.

"A shelter, weapons, water, food, medicine," he recited, mobilizing his memory, which wasn't very good for these things.

"That's right. You're smart; I thought you remembered that. How do you intend to protect what you have without weapons? You seem to have made the same mistake as all these people. Food first, safety second."

"Could you... I mean, could you give me some?"

"Weapons? Well, I took some extras, but everything is precious, you know? I can use them later as currency, so I can't just give them away like that. But you can help yourself, you know? There was still plenty yesterday. Well, that's if the army hasn't picked everything up as a precaution," he said, scratching his cheek, which was beginning to be covered with a very light beard.

"The army?! W-wait, where did you get weapons from?!"

"Well, from the Army Museum, of course!" he said as if it were obvious. "I wasn't going to settle for a crappy sword made to decorate a living room for fifty bucks when there are centuries-old items there that are priceless. For example, this saber dates back to the 17th century and was given as a gift to the king of France by the Shogun! It's beautiful, isn't it? Well, it's not just beautiful, it slices very well. I tested it at home, and my chair approves!"

"The Army Museum... Where is it, again?"

"Tss, you don't know that? I thought you liked antique weapons. It's at the Hôtel des Invalides, on the other side of the Seine, in front of the Grand Palais."

"Oh, I see. And the army? Do you think they'll seize everything?"

"Possibly," David replied, shrugging. "Anyway, that's what I would do if I wanted to avoid seeing people walking around Paris with swords, spears, and axes. But hey, it must have a million things to do right now. Maintain order where it can, protect Raymond, understand what's going on and restore electricity, protect the gold stored in the big banks, and make sure the weapons don't fall into the wrong hands. And if we're attacked by a foreign power, it must be busy gathering troops."

It was obvious that the army hadn't remained idle during all this time, but it was difficult for someone like Pierre or David to imagine what orders had been or were being issued. He didn't know, like most French people, but the closest military base to the heart of Paris was nine kilometers from the Élysée Palace, right next to the Bois de Vincennes. This was where the 24th infantry regiment was based, at Fort Neuf de Vincennes.

A little further east was a base of the Foreign Legion, renowned worldwide for the effectiveness of its fighters, whatever the conditions. South of Paris, near Leuville-sur-Orge, almost thirty kilometers away, was a logistical force command post as well as the 121st regiment of the train. However, at this distance and without what made it useful, namely its communication means and vehicles, these units had become almost useless in this world without electricity.

Closer to the heart of Paris, in Saint-Germain-en-Laye, was another military base called Camp des Loges, which housed a GSBDD center, a Groupement de Soutien De Base De Défense (a basic defense support group). These groups' main functions were to support other corps on a daily basis. They dealt with logistics like clothing or transportation, but also administrative tasks, catering, or accommodation.

Finally, near Nanterre, at Suresnes, was the 8th transmission regiment. Inheritor of a long history full of twists and turns, and after many name changes, this regiment specialized in telecommunications and information systems was stationed in an operational military base also housing a museum. If anyone in France had heard anything before everything went dark, it was them!