The first sign that something was wrong came at midnight.
Michael was in his study, reviewing reports from the Alliance about a new threat emerging in the southern territories. A group calling themselves the Syndicate had been consolidating power, absorbing the remnants of every organization he'd defeated over the years—the families, the Council, the Krovs, the Reaper's followers, the Prophet's disciples, the Shadow King's loyalists. They were led by a figure known only as the Chairman, a man who had been pulling strings from the shadows for decades.
The report was disturbing. The Syndicate had amassed an army of fifty thousand soldiers, funded by decades of accumulated wealth from every criminal enterprise in the continent. They had infiltrated governments, corrupted officials, and buil
