In a vast command chamber humming with the glow of high-tech monitors, numbers, maps, and encrypted streams of data flickered across the screens. Rows of men in dark uniforms worked feverishly at their stations, yet their hands trembled ever so slightly.
Upon a raised pedestal sat Old Man Lee, a figure both regal and terrifying. His back was straight despite his years, his snow-white hair gleaming beneath the harsh lights. In his gnarled yet powerful hand rested an antique scepter, more a symbol of dominion than ornament. With a thunderous crack, he slammed it against the marble floor, the sound reverberating like a war drum. Every man in the room stiffened, fear rippling through them.
Around him, elite guards in black stood as immovable sentinels, their expressions carved from stone.
“
