A man pulled up to work with a tired smile. It was time to work, to pay his bills and keep a roof over his head. It was a tiring life, but it was his, and he was alright with it.

A woman waved gently at her departing child, visions of good grades that would turn into college opportunities, in turn to grander and grander things that would let her child become more than she could ever be.

A dog chased after a bird that had dared to land in its yard. This was an affront that could not be forgiven, and it scurried as quickly as its paws would carry it to chase the bird away or make it pay the final price for its mistake.

A world away, a pony trotted merrily down a long path that connected her house to the nearest town, whistling as she went. The sun was so warm and the breeze just right. It would be a good day, or so she had decided.

In a room, away from all of this, a human tapped busily on a computer in their bedroom, writing something of little importance as the news played in the background, droning about issues that were both terrifying and yet so very far away. As if they could do anything about it. As if it even felt like it was the same world as the one they stepped into sometimes.

A ship sailed out from the dock, its sailors rushing about to keep things in order as they began what would be a long journey. Inside, GPS and radar worked to keep the boat on track and properly charted to get across the ocean as quickly as possible both ways and see its crew and cargo safely.

The man from before waved to his peers as he approached his cubicle. "Let's close this deal," he said in solidarity, getting a shared cheer from the others. They had a busy day ahead of them, but the energy was good, and they got to work.

"Mr. President." The man who had spoken those words was severely dressed with an earpiece and sharp suit that fitted the Secret Service. "We need to move."

The president looked up from where he had been eating, a diplomat seated across from him. "We were just--"

"--I am sorry, Mr. President. This is not negotiable."

He knew that was a lie. As president, he could argue all he wanted. What it meant was that the serviceman was hoping, possibly praying, that the president would accept the analysis of the situation and not argue it. He put his hands down on the table, standing up. "I'm deeply sorry for this interruption. Let's schedule another meeting soon. I feel we are close to a resolution."

The diplomat barely had time to accept the end of the meeting, as the president was being hurried away, perhaps a touch roughly for being the leader of the free world. The group emerged into the bright light of the outdoors and it was a strange thing that the president noticed immediately.

The air, it didn't taste right. It didn't smell right. That was, perhaps, a bad way to put it. The wrongness was what was removed, but that felt alien to happen all at once. It was as if he had been thrown on top of the most remote mountain, minus the lack of oxygen and freezing temperatures. It was clean. He was stuffed in the back of an armored car in his moment of surprise.

"Mr. President." Another serviceman was seated across from him and held out a thin folder towards him. "What we know so far."

He took the folder. It was too thin. Opening it, there was but a single page inside. What a way to start the day.

The ship's captain was looking over the navigator's shoulder. "How's it looking? Weather still clear?"

"Looks like sm--" The navigator leaned forward, one of her brows hiking sharply. "The hell..." She flicked a few switches up and down before pressing a mess of keys, trying to encourage her system to respond. "GPS just went down, hard. 0 satellites responding. Have someone get up there and make sure the antenna didn't fall off or something."

The captain didn't argue the command given. The navigator had clear situational authority when it came to making sure the ship knew where it was. He reached for a radio he had at his side, depressing the button. "Someone get up top and check for damaged antennas. We have an outage."

"Roger, Sir," came quick reply. "On it."

The navigator swiveled in her chair. "If I have to get out the manual tools, I'll do it."

The captain nodded at that. "Turning around isn't much of an option. We're not being paid to not get where we're going. It's not as if the country is a moving target."

She nodded in agreement. "Exactly. It's a pain in my ass, but I'll get us there, Captain. Here's to hoping it's just something knocked loose and it'll come back online right about.... Now?"

The instruments reported no sudden change. "I really don't like it." She poked gently at her console, swiveling back around. "No errors at all, just zero satellite coverage. I don't normally see that unless we're directly under something that can block the view, and that's obviously not the case."

The captain peeked outside the nearest window. They were in the middle of the ocean. There was nothing for miles but a bird or two that could try to block their view of the GPS flying around far above them, offering positional data. "Keep on it. I'll visit the radios and see if they can't get some intel. Maybe this is more than just us." They shared a parting gesture, like a salute but half as formal. Neither were proper Navy, just two people trying to get some shipping done.

"Damn it." They slapped the side of their monitor, but that provided no answers. Nothing did. Half the Internet seemed to be down. Not all of it, but enough for things to look odd. And it was on every major site. The smaller ones, at places, seemed to err towards being all online or entirely dropped off the grid.

"What is even going on?" They typed furiously on a chat server that was still operational, thankfully. Maybe someone else knew what was happening.

The president scanned over the paper quickly. Full satellite loss. No sign of missile attack. Extreme Internet disruptions. Border guards reports were the most immediately alarming. "Has this been confirmed?" he asked of the stoic man across from him.

"To the best of our ability." He folded his hands in his lap. "We are in a state of emergency, Sir. The Senate and House are cancelling recess, but not all members are accounted for."

"Where are they?" The president set the folder down beside himself.

"Unknown. Those outside the US borders are deep black. All attempts at communication beyond them are dead."

The vehicle stopped just long enough for another man to board across from the president. "Mr. President." He knew that man, his advisor of national security. "We're in a bad position."

"So I've been informed." He tapped at the pathetic one sheet of information he had in its thin folder. "Where is Canada and Mexico? You don't lose entire landmasses overnight."

"As of oh-ten-hundred, we became an isolated continent." He sat forward a little as the car made a turn. "The continental states are all accounted for, but anything beyond that is, at current time, unknown. The radio channels, beyond our own, are dead silent. No chatter. Not even the usual background noise."

"Do the people know?" The president slammed a hand down on the chair beside him. "They need to be informed."

"Once we have something to tell them." He sighed, folding his arms. "Right now, they know what they can see. People will begin making up their own ideas. We live in a connected world. They'll know quickly that international contacts are unreachable. The longer this goes on, the harder it will be to pretend it's something else. What, exactly, will we tell them?"

The president sagged back. He had promised peace. This was not the peace he had in mind.

The room was a panic of noise and motion. That was normal. Nothing about air-traffic control was quiet and easy, though usually orderly. That was where things were different. "Another missing flight," came a shout from across the room. "Flight 92 from--" It was but one report among many. More and more flights were not showing up when they should.

"Returning Flight 32 requesting landing clearance," came another voice. GPS was done, as were other service satellite services. Many flights were being turned back for fear of some kind of attack, or with wild reports of being unable to communicate with their destination. It was bedlam, and there were no easy answers available to explain it.

"Get those planes on the ground," shouted the man in charge. "Get me some answers, people." But there were few answers coming. Everyone worked as quickly as they could to return some semblance of order. It was, by and large, domestic flights. Planes going from place to place within the continental states could use other means of navigation and were flying without any issue larger than complaints from their flyers about the satellite internet not working.

At least, he decided, he wouldn't be the one dealing with all the people who had come to pick up a friend, family, or colleague from an international flight that wasn't showing up. He couldn't imagine a number large enough to take up that job.

"We have a new one," came a call. "Flight from MEX to YVR, lost contact with YVR and is requesting permission to land with the rest."

"Get it down," he barked in reply. "What else are we going to do?"

"These are people from Mexico to Canada. None of them were planning to stop in the states. How many of them have valid visas?"

Christ on a stick... "Worry about that after they're safely on the ground. Here's to hoping this little hiccup passes us by and we can send them forward with some free peanuts for their lost time."

"You got it." He had accepted the buck. It would be his back end on the fire if he had made the wrong decision, but letting a plane make an unsafe turn was a step above that. He had made the only call he could make. That plane had to come down and weather the storm.

"Any news? Please tell me there's news."

The president stood before a podium. Many cameras, some with people, some without, were directed at him. That was not an unusual situation. It having only minutes of planning was more the strange part. "People of America, I stand before you in this time of great concern. At ten this morning, Eastern Time, we lost all contact with the world outside the borders of the continental United States of America. It is time to prove that we are worthy of the name. We must come together and see each other through this trying time. As you can see, the information and power networks within the country are in excellent repair where satellites are not in service."

His grip on the podium tightened. He was barely more educated than the scared people who would be watching him. "We have our best people on the case to discover what happened and what can be done to fix it. For now, continue as you were. Go to work, go to school. If you normally worked outside the country, you are to avoid attempting to leave."

"While we are racing to produce more satisfying answers for you all, at least know that we are on the case, and will not rest until we have them. Your government is on your side. Together, we'll make it through this tunnel and emerge stronger than ever before."

"United, we will stand. God Bless."

Author's Notes:

There will be more ponies, I swear! We start a tale about a large situation and what befalls it. We'll be zooming in on particular people in particular places, following them as they deal with things.

Are there people/ponies/places you want a peek at? Now's a fine time to vote! Comment below!

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