His name was once irrelevant a background bureaucrat in a minor division of Homend Will Security. Now, his codename whispered through dark corridors was Director Sone.

  No one knew where he came from.

  Only that he rose quickly.

  From low level handler to strategic commander.

  From regional intelligence to global control.

  He didn’t shout orders.

  He didn’t need to.

  Every move was calcuted.

  Every w, every purge, every experiment a brick id in a blueprint that only he could see.

  It began with fear.

  After the first Willstorm fttened three cities in the Northern Bloc, nations begged for order. Sone gave it to them.

  Through promises of protection, he unified military councils across continents. Established The Directive, a multi-national force that bypassed borders. Legally unaccountable. Untraceable.

  And at its core: Unit 0, the team assigned to handle "Rogue Will Incidents" a sterilized term for the capture, control, and if necessary… termination of those deemed too powerful.

  He wasn’t just managing governments anymore.

  He was directing them.

  In a sealed war room beneath Arcadia Prime, Sone watched live feeds from across the globe.

  Monster Herds wiping out refugee zones.

  Experimental healing blood being pumped from Subject Aeria.

  Chrono’s sealed time prison still holding for now.

  Phantom’s escape from a neural cage.

  The mountain twins’ original cell being deconstructed after their recapture.

  "Three threats gone," he said coldly, sipping his bck synth-coffee. “Two remain at rge. One… rebuilding."

  His aides nodded.

  Data streamed behind him genome logs, brainwave scans, predictive maps of rebellion.

  “Operation Gss Veil is greenlit,” he decred.“All known high-tier anomalies are to be recssified: From Omega Risk to Bck Threat Level. Global warrants. Use all sanctioned force. No restrictions.”

  “But sir,” one analyst said nervously, “that would trigger intervention from the Free States-”

  “We control their water,” Sone cut him off. “They’ll comply.”

  A long silence.

  Then the ccking of keys.

  But Sone wasn’t finished.

  He had other projects:

  A network of AI-prediction algorithms based on the Will Pattern Database.

  An underground city known as Helix 9, where failed experiments were dumped.

  A secret council of cloned “clean” minds copies of himself to repce failing world leaders.

  He didn’t believe in politics.

  He believed in control.

  In a quiet vault beneath the chamber, he visited the Vessel Room.

  There y a body.

  A prototype.

  A failed experiment who could not die frozen in a loop of regeneration.

  “She’ll wake soon,” he murmured to himself. “And when she does…”

  He tapped the gss.

  “…I’ll offer her a choice. Obey… or I use her blood to repce the gods.”

  Sone walked away.

  The lights dimmed.

  Arms pulsed in hidden frequencies only certain minds could hear.

  A new phase was beginning.

  And Sone was already five steps ahead.