Meteorologist and inventor, Dr. Jason Smith, developed the world's first WCS—Weather Control System.

Though only a prototype, he successfully controlled his flying nanotech by satellite to produce hyper-localized weather events such as heatwaves, rain, snow, and gusty wind.

Jason himself grew up poor on a financially struggling rural farm. He knew how climate change adversely impacted crops and livestock. For over a year, he secretly tested the WCS on his family's farm, effectively plotting a grid of distinct microclimates to cultivate whatever he wished.

But for Jason, merely helping farmers grow crops or preventing global famine did not satisfy his struggling sense of social consciousness. Economic inequality continued to divide people of the world, and political leadership readily got bought out.

Jason sought others to help him use the Weather Control System to 'serve a more immediate and meaningful purpose.' He finally collaborated with a group of underground hackers.

They first chose a CEO who frequently outsourced jobs, lobbied for deregulation, razed natural habitats, and forced property upscaling. Not to mention causing economic devastation for hardworking families while he gave his executives massive bonuses.

Jason and his team called the CEO using a digitally disguised voice ...

"This is Frank ..."

"Mr. Frank Johnson?"

"Yes. Who is this? How did you get my private cell number?"

"Mr. Johnson, do not hang up. What I have to tell you is critical. Go straight to the main social media page for your corporation."

"Alright ... One moment ... Okay ..."

"Refresh the video section."

"Okay ..."

"Choose the most recent upload, Mr. Johnson."

A video titled 'Weather Control System Phase 1' contained a collage of recorded segments but all with the same timestamp—

Bolts of lightning destroyed a power station to one of Johnson's foreign manufacturing facilities. A factory that was proven to run as a sweatshop exploiting unskilled labor under brutal working conditions.

Tornadoes ripped through entire swaths of Johnson's highly profitable harvests on farmland that replaced millions of acres of lush rainforest.

Torrents of rain caused mudslides over one of Johnson's high-end real estate ventures he cheaply purchased from low-income neighborhood slumlords.

"Weather control ...? Is this a joke? What the hell do you want from me?"

"It's all real. We only have two demands, Mr. Johnson."

"And those are?"

"Step down, and give up absolutely everything you own to charity."

"And if I refuse?"

A bolt of lightning struck outside Johnson's mansion—lights flickered—and an ear-shattering shotgun-blast-like thunderclap shook the premises.

"Mr. Johnson, let me be clear—our terms are non-negotiable."