“…” Nobody said anything. They turned to the three people who led their every step. After taking a brief glance at each other, Brock, John, and Gerald returned to the front. Brock gestured to one of the guards nearby. Seeing his movements, he spoke up, drawing everyone's attention. “How can we know you are telling the truth?” The guard asked Bryan, who was wearing an odd mask. He only received a static stare from Bryan. "If you're not convinced, you can come and try.” His stature oozing of confidence left them speechless. The situation was changing at a pace no-one could keep up with. A recurring thought plagued everyone. Should we call him out on his bluff? Gerald, Brock, and John didn't know if he was bluffing or not. It was difficult to make a decision because of the mask and neutral body stance. One of the guards came up with a solution, bringing everyone's confidence to the skies. “What if we kill you? Won't that deactivate the explosives?” Hearing his explanation, they did not even think twice. They clamored together, shouting and yelling. “He's right!” "Not so tough now, are you?!" "Light him up!" As people joined the growing chorus, their voices grew louder. During the yelling and shouting, John and Brock tried to calm them down without success. However, when Gerald was about to stop them, something else intervened. Cold robotic laughter drowned out their shouts and jeers. The shouts subsided as mechanical laughter filled the air. They stared at the black demon, waiting for what he had to say. Since Brock and John were in charge of all the hoodlums, they were more attentive to his actions. The gangsters were clueless about anything other than following directions. Thus, everything fell upon the three leaders to solve the situation before them. Bryan, who had got their attention via a speaker, spoke again. Despite this, his voice had a chill rather than his usual mechanical tone. He spread his arms in proclamation, revealing his lean figure through the suit. "You can try your luck, but it won't end well for you." Bryan pulled out a controller with a glowing red button from his pocket. He pressed the button and held it down with his thumb. Seeing him nonchalantly press the button John shrieked, "What the hell are you doing?". Bryan only laughed in response. "Don't worry, I only primed it. The second I let go, the whole plaza will go up in flames. Think of it as some extra insurance, keke" Bryan's cackle sent shivers down the rest of their spines. Brock shook his head in disbelief while John's lips trembled, contemplating the absurdity of the situation. "You're a lunatic!" John cried out, but silence was all that met him. Through a discreet hand signal, Gerald called for Red Vipers and Blue Wolves to stand by. Compared to John and Brock, he was much calmer in this situation. Panicking wouldn't help anyone, which is the main reason why he felt John and Brock were not fit to lead. They were too emotional. Even so, it did not mean he was completely relaxed. In spite of Gerald's calm tone, his heart could leap out of his chest throughout the conversation. “So we have to play a game? That doesn't make sense. What's in it for you?” As Gerald spoke, the bow-arched smile on Bryan's mask grew wider at an alarming rate. When he blinked, it was as if nothing ever happened. Gerald rubbed his eyes and put all of his attention on the task at hand without getting distracted. He knew he wasn't in a good situation if he started to hallucinate. Yet he knew he was only a man, not a monster. He composed himself, awaiting the masked man's response. "Well, yes I suppose. All I want to hear is the truth and condemn the liars. Ready to play?" "Who are you?" John spoke which drew Bryan's attention. He thought about how to answer his question. "If you get to the end alive, I guess I can tell you, keke" The three of them ignored his awful take on a joke. As the three of them got ready for what might have been the hardest game they ever had to play in their lives, a storm was brewing in the heart of the city. *** Present Time, Zenith Tower, Highest Floor. From the Zenith, the only tower that reached the clouds, the entire country was visible. The rain drenched the city, pouring down with indifference. A woman stood with her hands crossed across her chest as she gazed out the blurry window onto the city. Even though her entire being was shrouded in darkness, her mature grisly voice told she was around her mid-sixties. "Report." Towards the room's entrance, a man waited to speak. With his hair gelled back, he had a formal suit, making him neat. After adjusting his charcoal suit and tie, he spoke with a steady voice, exuding sterility and loyalty. He stood without a single shred of defiance, hands clasped behind his back. “The public's opinion is higher this year than last, amounting to a total of 89% approval rate. The rest of the 11% show doubt and concern. It's about the fact The Leader hasn't shown their face and their gender is unknown. Some also believe The Leader doesn't even exist and is a means to control them. I have compiled the rest of the reports about the disapproval rates. We have also recently seen an increase in attacks from the Dark Net organizations. Although we have painted them the worst they can be, I'm afraid they're planning something big. They haven't made a move on our assets in a while. The servers have been running as per usual, keeping everyone's data in check. I could also give some data reports to help with the approval ra-” Before the man could finish his endless rambling, the woman raised her hand, signaling him to stop. "Enough. I'm getting a headache thinking about everything you dumped on me. File the rest of the report in a document and send it to me. I'll read it on my own time. Where are the disapproval rates occurring the most?" “We are receiving them from the outskirts of the country.” When she heard his words, she clicked her tongue out of annoyance. “Tsk, they're a stain on this country. I should have wiped them all out all those years ago. Send some Hydra agents to wipe them off the face of Zain. As for the Dark Net organization, Project Vector should take care of the rest.” The woman didn't even turn around once throughout the entire conversation. She spoke while watching the heavy downpour hit the glass wall. However, the man replied in an unperturbed voice, as if it was a common sight. “Certainly.” Before he was about to turn around, the woman spoke once more. “By the way, how is your family?” For the first time through the whole conversation, a crack started to form in his diligent facade. His blank face turned into a scowl almost immediately. He spoke with a suppressed anger, akin to an angered lion. “Leave them out of this.” At his words, the woman finally turned around, facing him with the blank expression he had moments before. The dark gray sky encompassed her entire body, creating a silhouette. The more she spoke, the angrier he became. “Your wife still kept your last name, Mrs. Hayes. How diligent. Your two children have grown up as well. What are their names again?” His eyes burned with anger, ready to strike. When he was about to lose his head, she spoke once again in a neutral voice. "Relax Victor, it was a joke. Remember, do your part and I'll do mine." With those words, she turned around once again, facing the tears of the sky. After exhaling, Victor's hot breath turned into steam. He turned around without saying another word. Hearing the door slam behind her, the woman exhaled too, but her breath was as cold as ice. She could see her own reflection on the glass pane, and the colors of her eyes were visible. Like the rainbow, they seemed to change and mesh together. Once again, she focused on the view of the city. I will get out of here, I don't care if I have to burn this world to the ground to do it. After a while, she turned around, sitting at her desk. She studied the files with great focus, her iridescent eyes glowing in the grey lit room. *** Present Time, Great Colows. Brock, John, Gerald, and the rest of the troops heard Bryan's robotic voice echoing through the plaza. "John was going to betray Brock at the peace treaty. Brock uses his men as suicide bombers. Gerald beat Old Jacobs yesterday. Which of these statements is a blatant lie?" The room fell silent. The rest of the troops looked at the three of them in a new light. Whether it was good or not, no one had a clue. Brock, Gerald, and John looked at each other with different lights in their eyes. Gerald tried to direct his attention to Brock, while John looked at Gerald with pure hatred. Brock scowled in disappointment as he looked at John. When Gerald realized that things were going wrong, he turned to Bryan with malice. Brock and John heard him snarl at him before he spoke to them. "He's trying to tear us apart. We've known each other since we were kids. Do you think any of us would do that to each other?" When Brock and John calmed down, a robotic voice filled the room, putting them on edge. "If you have doubts about what I said, you'd want to know they're rats among your forces. In addition to one outsider who infiltrated your bases. I've got to say your security needs some improvement. If you ever get out of here, you all should improve on that." Gerald knew who he was talking about in a heart beat. "Wait, was it the reporter?" Bryan clapped his hands at his guess. "Bingo, well done! Still, he's long gone by now. Two more rats to flush out." If they all knew the so-called "scrawny reporter" was the man standing before them, they would all mob him in an instant. Bryan took care to erase any traces he left in either base, stowing away the rest of his belongings. He made sure the blast radius wouldn't affect it. Gerald thought about the recent additions to the group. His thoughts narrowed down to the pair he found on the way to Great Colows. "Andrew and Beck, get your asses out here now." Bryan's smile curved upwards. Yet everyone else could only see a static smile, that always curved at a disturbing angle.