The split began over something seemingly minor, intervention methodology.A group of practitioners, led by a charismatic young man named Adrian Cole, argued we'd become too cautious. Too focused on client autonomy. Too reluctant to act decisively."We know better than desperate people what they need," Adrian argued during a network conference. "Letting clients choose whether to accept intervention means some will refuse and die. We should intervene whether they want us to or not.""That's paternalism," I countered. "People have the right to refuse help. We can't force intervention on unwilling clients.""Even when refusal means death? Even when we know we could save them?"The debate intensified over months. Adrian's faction argued for mandatory intervention. Once we identify someone researching dangerous rituals, we should stop them by any means necessary. Block their access to materials. Report them to authorities. Physically prevent them from proceeding if needed."You're describin

The doctor's office was sterile and impersonal.Dr. Patel sat across from me, looking at test results with the practiced neutrality that doctors cultivate when delivering difficult news. I already knew what she was going to say. The symptoms over the past six months had been clear enough. Fatigue. Weight loss. Persistent pain. Shortness of breath."The scans show masses in both lungs," Dr. Patel said gently. "Biopsy confirms small cell carcinoma. It's aggressive. Based on size and spread, we're looking at stage four."Stage four. Terminal. The words I'd expected but hoped wouldn't come."How long?" I asked. My voice was steadier than I felt."With treatment, possibly eighteen months. Without treatment, perhaps six. But Victoria, these are estimates. Everyone responds differently. Some patients exceed expectations significantly.""What does treatment involve?""Chemotherapy, possibly radiation. It won't cure the cancer at this stage. But it can slow progression. Buy time. Improve the q

The hospice was peaceful. Warm. Designed to make dying comfortable rather than terrifying.I'd chosen hospice care over home death. I didn't want to die in my cottage. Wanted that space to remain a life space for whoever came after. Hospice was better. Place designed for endings.My room had large windows overlooking gardens. Comfortable bed. Chairs for visitors. Everything arranged to prioritize dignity and comfort over medical intervention."How long?" I'd asked Dr. Patel."Days. Maybe a week. Your breathing is deteriorating rapidly. The cancer has spread to your brain. You're at the final stage."Days. So little time. So much to process.The network organized a vigil. Not awake, I was still alive. But gathering of people who wanted to say goodbye while I could still respond."You don't have to do this," Lily said when I approved the plan. "You could have privacy. Final days just with close friends.""I want this. I want to see the people whose lives touched mine. I want to say prop

The network's annual report, one year after Victoria's death, showed remarkable continuity.Lily sat in what had been Victoria's office, now hers and Daniel's shared space, reviewing the statistics. Two thousand three hundred practitioners worldwide. Sixty-seven thousand active volunteers. An estimated four hundred and twenty thousand people helped directly in the past year. Ninety-three percent success rate on crisis interventions.The numbers were better than when Victoria was alive. Not because she'd been holding the network back, but because the systems she'd built had matured. The infrastructure she'd established operated efficiently. The culture she'd instilled sustained itself."We're growing," Daniel observed, looking over Lily's shoulder. "Fifteen percent increase in practitioners. Twenty percent increase in volunteers. The field is expanding faster than before.""Victoria's death created what Dr. Santos calls 'martyrdom effect,'" Lily said. "People inspired by her story. Wan

Ten years after Victoria's death, the network faced its greatest challenge.It started with scattered reports. Practitioners in different regions are noticing unusual patterns. Increased ritual attempts. More desperate people researching dangerous practices. Numbers that had been declining steadily for years suddenly spiking upward."This isn't random fluctuation," Daniel said during an emergency leadership meeting. "My precognitive sense has been screaming for weeks. Something systematic is happening. Someone is deliberately creating conditions that drive people toward supernatural solutions."Lily reviewed the data. Forty-seven percent increase in identified ritual attempts over six months. Concentrated in specific regions, Eastern Europe, Southeast Asia, parts of South America. Areas where the economic crisis had created widespread desperation."Economic factors explain some of this," Marcus noted. "Global recession creates desperation. Desperate people seek extreme solutions. But