The end, 46:18:04 and counting.

“Bloody hell, that’s beginning to look quite dangerous,” Professor Jin Dong Lee, affectionately called Professor Jimmy by his colleagues, said as he returned to the room. He stood there in front of the large glass walls of the Breckland Astronomy Observatory. His eyes were glued to the image on the digital monitors lining the control room wall. Before him, the Sun’s fiery surface throbbed with turbulent magnificence, its magnetic coils writhing and curling like dancers in a biblical inferno. For weeks, the team had been tracking the solar events, awaiting the culmination of the activity. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have used profanity, but that’s not good.”

The 25th solar cycle continued to gather momentum. Now, at the peak of the cycle, the surface of the Sun was that of a boiling pot. Solar flares, plasma jets, and intermittent coronal mass ejections (CMEs) had become a common feature, each logged with accuracy by Professor Jimmy’s diligent team.

Jimmy, a lean man in his early forties, normally had a calm demeanour despite the growing tension in the observatory. His dark hair was peppered with grey, and his face bore the deep-set lines of someone who had spent countless nights peering into the mysteries of the universe. His background as a lead astrophysicist had granted him insight into the wild dance of solar storms, but today, he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was about to happen.

“Does anyone know how much energy that last flare produced?” Professor Jimmy turned to his staff at different workstations.

Dr Emily Patterson, his co-worker and one of the staff’s veteran astronomers, looked at her screen. “Just below M-class levels,” she answered, her voice professional, but with a hint of caution. “But it's the magnetic instability I worry about. That cluster of sunspots on the equator. It's twisting. At a rapid pace. Unlike that last one, if that lets go, we are in the firing line, you know that.”

Professor Jimmy nodded. “It’s the spiralling magnetic fields that may cause a major coronal mass ejection. But I still prefer to believe we’re seeing a large solar flare, and hopefully, we’re not in the potential path of anything.”

Standing alongside her, Dr Robert Mason, a man of few words who let figures speak for him, was typing frantically. He glanced away from his terminal, his brow creased. “The models continue to indicate instability. However, the CME probability has not shot up dramatically. Not yet.”

Professor Jimmy could feel the nervousness among the crew, but scientists, they were. They were not likely to panic. The 11-year solar cycle of the Sun was a well-researched occurrence. The magnetic activity of the Sun intensified every 11 years, leading to phases of escalated solar storms and solar flares. This 25th solar cycle was turning out to be no exception, at least as of yet.

“Twenty-five cycles,” Jimmy grumbled, gazing at the stream of the Sun’s turbulent surface. “Eleven-year intervals. Every solar maximum is treated as ordinary, like they’ve forgotten what even a powerful flare can unleash.”

“It’s only routine until it isn’t,” declared the newest member of the group, Dr Megan Hall, a solar physicist who has devoted most of her early career to researching historical solar events. “Just think 1859, the Carrington Event. We all know what happened, don’t we? A super flare, a gigantic CME. It slammed into Earth’s magnetosphere so hard telegraph wires ignited, and auroras lit up the equator. And that was not yet a technological civilization like ours.”

Professor Jimmy turned to her. “Fact. The Carrington Event was a onetime occurrence, though. It’s unlikely we’re going to see anything on that scale.”

“Unlikely as that may be, we also haven’t experienced a large solar storm in the era of modern technology. Satellites, GPS, power grids, you name it, can be impacted. A CME large enough, targeting Earth, could send us back to the 19th century.”

The crew was silent for a moment, each one of them considering the enormity of what may occur. Although they were presently witnessing no more than a possible solar flare, the volatile nature of the Sun had them needing to be on guard at all times. Specifically, at this time, they had seen a number of CMEs pinging off, just not in their general direction, away from the earth, so far this week. The solar cycle theory was not new. From the time German astronomer Samuel Heinrich Schwabe noticed it in the 19th century, the idea of the 11-year solar cycle had been central to understanding solar behaviour. Each cycle saw the magnetic poles of the Sun flip, leading to a surge in solar activity, then back to a stable state. The effect of the activity, however, differed in every cycle. Some were quieter, then others released catastrophic storms.

“Alright, let’s get a little perspective here,” Jimmy interrupted the silence. “This isn’t about the current storms we’re experiencing. We’re expecting a large solar event, yes, but we still don’t know when, or how bad it will be. The models are far from perfect.”

“You’re correct,” Emily replied, bringing additional information on-line. “But we must be ready. If a CME is on its way here, we must project its trajectory and provide precise timing. The world relies on it. We can’t risk downplaying the effect.”

Professor Jimmy’s nod was abrupt. “Let’s concentrate on collecting the most precise information. Dr Mason, reset the solar flare tracking system. Get it as accurate as possible on timing.”

Mason nodded and resumed typing.

Jimmy looked over at the support staff in the room. “Paul, simulate the magnetic fields as they are currently on the Sun. I need to see how probable it is for another CME to escape, and in which direction. Zoe, pay close attention to watching for any surges in solar wind velocity.”

Paul Hutchinson and Zoe Williams, two of the most dependable staff members at the observatory, instantly started executing their own programs. There was a sense of tension in the room, but Jimmy had confidence that his crew was set for whatever lay ahead.

The room was full of a low hum as the real-time information and the simulations started coming in.

“Professor,” Zoe called, a few moments later, “solar wind velocities are on the increase. It has just started, but they’re rising quickly.”

Jimmy walked over to her position, his eyes on the screen. The gusts were not extreme yet, but they were rising. “Keep tracking. Get back to me every five minutes.”

As he turned to the screen on the wall, Jimmy’s head was whirling. They had seen solar storms before, of course. He and his crew had followed them for years, even more so in the last week, but something about this was different, more imposing. There was a randomness to the Sun’s activity, livelier, that made him uneasy. The previous solar peak had been fairly subdued, but this one. The readings were so high they were not playing out as they had anticipated.

Dr Hall’s voice interrupted his thoughts. “I’ve received a report from the global monitoring system. The magnetosphere continues to be stable for now, but we still ought to send a preliminary alert to satellite operators. Just to be safe.”

Jimmy looked at the clock. It was still early, yet the day already seemed long. The Sun, millions of miles away, seemed perilously close, too close. “We will warn everyone soon enough,” Jimmy explained. “But for now, let’s not be premature. At this moment, we’re in flare country still. We’re going to need a lot more concrete information and data before we warn anyone.” As his eyes returned to the screens, Jimmy could not help but think that something bigger was actually brewing somewhere on the horizon. They had prepared for a solar flare, but if that writhing sunspot blew as a full CME, everything could be turned on its head in a matter of seconds. And as the seconds ticked away, he saw they were running out of time.

Dr Megan Hall, her brow creased, and eyes fixed on her monitor with growing intensity, straightened suddenly. “Something’s happening,” she declared, her tone tight, overriding the surround hum of machines in the observatory.

Professor Jimmy turned suddenly to her. “What are you saying?”

She turned her chair towards him, a concerned look on her face. “The coronal magnetic fields are changing, faster than they were a few minutes previous. I don’t like it. We could be seeing something much bigger here than the expected flare.”

Paul Hutchinson and Zoe Williams, who were at neighbouring posts, soon verified her observations.

“Dr Hall’s right,” Paul answered, eyeing the soaring values on his monitor. “Solar wind velocities are rising off the chart, and magnetosphere readings on our satellites indicate compression.”

Zoe, speaking calmly but tautly, continued, “The X-ray flux has doubled over the past five minutes, and the flare itself is much bigger in power than we estimated. It’s rising very quickly.”

Jimmy frowned, approaching their computer monitors. “How quickly?”

“Too quickly. Faster than we’ve ever seen in this cycle. This is not acting like a typical solar flare,” Zoe answered.

Just as the gravity of the situation became real, Dr Emily Patterson spoke up, her tone tinged with irritation. “Wait, everyone. You’re all leaping to conclusions. We expected we were going to get some flare-ups today. This type of spike can occur during the runup. You’re getting hysterical.”

Dr Robert Mason, ever the calmer one, folded his arms behind him in support of her. “I think Emily’s right. We’ve been through this before. Solar flares are a natural phenomenon. Surges in their activity are not a cause to raise alarms as of yet.”

Jimmy could sense the tension rising in the room as the disagreements hung in the air. Megan’s eyes were steely, and she was not budging.

“I’m not saying we’re handling a normal flare here, Robert,” she retorted. “This is something different. The size of the magnetic shift, the energy output, they’re indicating something much bigger. We must begin to think in terms of a coronal mass ejection, a large one at that. You have already seen the ones that have travelled away from us, so why not this one?”

Emily shrugged a little, her head moving back and forth. “All speculation. We don’t have concrete evidence yet. Hopping on that bandwagon is only going to cause a panic. For what? A normal solar flare that will be over in a few hours?”

“You’re wrong,” Megan shot back. “This is bigger than anything we’ve ever seen before, and if we don’t act, then we’re wasting precious time.”

Jimmy, sensing the feeling of the room, spoke up in his usual calm tone. “Hold your horses everyone. We must concentrate only on what the data is telling us, less emotion please.”

Suddenly, a loud beep came from Zoe’s terminal, capturing everyone’s attention. She quickly typed, bringing up the most recent telemetry readings, and sent them to the main screen for all to see.

“We lost contact with one of the satellites,” Zoe stated. “Solar Sentinel 3 is now offline. It cut out at the moment the X-ray flux struck. See, it's gone.”

The room went silent as it hit them. Losing a satellite was a sign of the escalating situation, and they knew it.

“Could this be a system glitch?” Jimmy asked, half hoping it was.

Zoe’s head shook, her face grim. “No. All was running as normal right up to that final surge. The satellite’s systems must’ve been fried.”

Zoe, petite at five-foot-six with short, swept back black hair, framing a sweet young face, now appeared far older as she scrunched her eyes with dismay.

She moved in closer to her monitor, scanning the information. “We’re reading overloads on several sensors. If we’re already losing satellites, we may be in worse shape than we think.”

Emily let out a deep sigh as her confidence wavered. “Fine, perhaps something is happening, but let’s not be drastic here. We don’t know enough to jump to conclusions.”

“We’ve already lost a portion of our ability to monitor,” Emily snapped. “How much more evidence are you going to need?”

Jimmy jumped in. “Zoe, Paul, keep tracking the rest of the satellites. If we lose any others, we are in deep trouble. Megan, Robert, I want both of you to work on the magnetic field information and provide me with your very best estimate of what is occurring on the Sun. Emily, get on the phone with the Earth’s magnetospheric observatories. See what they have to say.” The team dispersed quickly to their positions without a further word.”

“Jimmy’s head was spinning. They had anticipated a solar flare. Yes, that was certain, but not to this extent. And if the forecast Megan was alluding to materialise, a coronal mass ejection a whopping ten times their estimated worst possible outcome, it could devastate Earth.

After a few minutes, Megan’s voice cut through the hubbub.

“Professor!” she called out in a darker tone than previously. “I’ve redone the energy output and field projections. You’re going to want to see this.”

Jimmy rushed down to her position. Her monitor showed graphs, each of which indicated a frightening spike in activity. His heart fell as he scanned the last figures.

“Is that as large as I think?” he asked.

She paused for a moment, then answered softly. “Yes, absolutely massive. Ten times worse than we have projected so far.”

His world suddenly came to a halt as the gravity of her words sank in.

Paul spoke up from the other side of the room, his own readings agreeing with Megan’s findings. “They’re all saying the same thing. This is a massive coronal mass ejection, no doubt now, and if it's coming in our direction.”

Jimmy’s jaw was clenched. This was no longer a solar flare. This was possibly catastrophic. He looked at the team, all of whom were staring at him in anticipation of his next words. The world outside the observatory kept on as normal, blissfully unaware of the danger that hung in space above them.

“We must alert the international network,” stated Jimmy. “Start phoning everyone. When this thing strikes, we can expect mass power cuts, satellite malfunctions, communication breakdowns... and that’s just the starting point. Alert every observatory, every space agency. I want the emergency services on alert.”

They dispersed, hastening to pass on the news. Jimmy lingered for a moment, gazing at the screens displaying the violent dance of the Sun.

Whatever followed, they were in no way prepared.

Paul Hutchinson’s voice cut through the tense silence, refocusing everyone’s attention on the room.

“Professor Jimmy, you’ve got to see these readings,” Paul called, his tone tight with alarm. His eyes bounced from one screen to several as they overflowed with information, each reading worse than the previous one. “Solar wind velocity has gone off the scale, and I’ve got extreme magnetic field ripples. If this CME breaks free, it's going to destroy every item of technology along its path.”

Professor Jimmy rushed to Paul’s console, his gut roiling as he read the figures. They were higher than any simulation. The Sun was getting poised to release a coronal mass ejection so powerful that the effects would be cataclysmic, worse by far than any of them had envisioned. Suddenly two other satellites lost power. “That’s two more gone. We’re all but blind now”. Jimmy thought out loud.

“Dr Hall, did you verify this with NASA yet?” Jimmy questioned, looking over at Megan, who was already on the phone, her face pale with worry.

She shook her head, frustration evident on her face. “I’ve been trying, but their lines are all busy. I can’t even get a hold of their main desk.”

Her fingers darted across her keyboard as she attempted to send a direct message to NASA’s emergency channels. Tense moments ticked by before she let out a sigh and leaned back in her chair.

“Wait,” she exclaimed suddenly, her eyes growing bright. “There’s a recorded message from NASA. I’m playing it on speaker.”

The room fell silent as the pre-recorded message from NASA crackled on, the agency’s warning delivered in a sober and sombre tone.

“Attention to all space monitoring stations and observatories. This is a NASA automated broadcast. We are presently witnessing a historic solar event. Our records verify that an unprecedented coronal mass ejection, bigger than ever before observed, erupted from the sun at 05:27:18 EST. This CME has unleashed billions of tons of plasma energy as well as magnetic field energy, which will hit Earth’s magnetosphere in... 46 hours and 18 minutes approximately.”

The signal had a little crackle in it, then carried on.

“This CME has the capability of interrupting all electronic communication, knocking out power grids, and putting satellites out of commission. Governments and infrastructure organisations need to be informed at once. Civil emergency procedures must be initiated.” Then pause briefly before resuming.

“This is not a drill. The extent of the interruption this event could cause is catastrophic. Brace for the chance of global technological collapse. Loss of electricity, communication, and basic services is imminent.” The voice became sombre. “Good luck world, God be with you.” The transmission ended with a staccato beep, leaving the room in stunned silence. The worst fears had just been realised. This was not just a drastic solar storm. This was world-ending, technologically, and would not fare much better for mankind.

Professor Jimmy swallowed hard as he moved forward, his mind whirling as he attempted to absorb the enormity of what was happening. “Alright, let’s wrap it up. You are going to need to get back home and be with your families. There is nothing else you can do. Good luck everyone,” he added and activated the countdown timer on the giant screen. “God bless us all.”