Nova's Blade

Chapter 4

Floating above Earth, a colossal and sleek space citadel casts an imposing shadow, its angular architecture illuminated by the glow of shimmering panels and pulsing lights that blend seamlessly with the structure. Inside, an expansive room is dominated by a pentagonal table, each side occupied by a figure. The vast window offers a breathtaking view of Earth, bathing the room in an ethereal glow.

Leaning slightly in his chair, Nero Firestone's fingers deftly adjust his cufflinks as his sharp, observant eyes survey the room. His assistant hands him a report, which he skims with a nod of approval.

Lugh Omega gently swirls the water in his glass, his glasses perched on the bridge of his nose as he leans back in his chair. He shares a quiet word with his assistant, who adjusts Lugh's tablet to display a specific document.

Wolf Vortex's snow-white hair frames his long nose, while his eyes dart between the others, his fingers tapping rhythmically on the table. His assistant reviews data on a tablet, showing it to Wolf.

Hermes Lumina's striking makeup accentuates her lifted cheekbones as she lounges back in her chair, her gaze steady and unflinching. Her assistant whispers something in her ear, eliciting a knowing smirk.

Cata Feronia's enigmatic smile plays on her lips, drawing attention to the deep lines on her face. Her assistant hands her a cup of tea, which she sips thoughtfully before the meeting begins.

Each of them sits with an armed guard standing nearby, their respective company's flag patched on their shoulder sleeve.

"We have a problem with Last Valkyrie. Part of our base is not watching in protest to police brutality," Hermes says, her voice laced with annoyance.

"We'll hold a meeting with each of our chiefs of police and celebrities. You own the celebs, so you can coach them in 'promising change'," Nero offers, his voice steady and persuasive.

Hermes smirks, nodding in agreement. Wolf, however, furrows his brow, leaning forward.

"But that's going to alienate a portion of our base for looking like we're soft on crime," he interjects.

"Not if we plant Hades Legion flags in the homes of the recent shooting victims. We'll execute their families on live tv. Hermes' media can craft the story," Nero replies, his eyes glinting with determination.

"And what about Hannibal? He's been more sporadic," Wolf continues, his concern evident.

"He's been off the rail since his wife died. I'll speak to him about making the show more exciting," Hermes says, her voice softening for a moment.

They all nod, and Nero claps his hands.

"Time for trading," he announces, his voice commanding attention.

Nero raises an eyebrow, a smirk playing on his lips. "Wolf, I'll give you 100 drones to help the guards secure your banks, and you temporarily freeze the assets of my competitors. Say you found ties to illegal activities. It'll give me enough time to acquire them."

Wolf narrows his eyes, his voice tinged with skepticism. "They couldn't protect your facility, how can they protect my banks?"

Nero clenches his teeth, frustration briefly flitting across his face. "It was an old facility," he grunts.

Wolf nods, and the two press their tablets.

Lugh turns to Cata. "If you lower the prices of your cancer drugs and healthcare, I will triple your company's intake of our solar power, for half the original charge."

Cata arches an eyebrow. "Your family's healthy, why do you care?"

"Seraphine visits children's hospitals. It won't look good if there are protests against your companies there."

Cata chuckles, her eyes twinkling. "That girl spends so much time with them kids, she might as well adopt them. Keep your solar, I'll do it for free."

"That's going to make your kids and grandkids mad," Nero interjects, swiping on his tablet.

"They need the lesson," Cata asserts, her voice firm. "Send out a post to your followers to invest in our stocks because you heard we're developing a new drug. I'll give half the revenue to you, and the other half to some charity."

Nero smirks, nodding. "I'll tell them your stocks are going to the moon. Anyone else?"

Silence fills the room. Everyone turns their attention to the holographic projection displaying votes. The percentages reveal Nero as the winner with Lugh as the frontrunner, while the others are behind. Everyone claps for Nero, except for Hermes, who clenches her fist, frustration etched on her face.

The immense door opens with a resonant, imposing sound. A poised figure steps into the room. "The others are arriving," the person announces, their voice crisp and clear.

As they step through the doorway, they find themselves on a grand stage with the spotlight on them, overlooking a sprawling auditorium. Elegant rows of seats curve around the stage, each one filled with an air of prestige. As the figures take their positions, holograms of people clad in tailored suits flicker into vibrant, shimmering existence. Alongside each hologram, a virtual name tag displays a company's name. The atmosphere in the auditorium crackles with anticipation, every gaze fixed intently on the stage, poised for the unfolding of the momentous next steps. Wolf steps up to the podium with poise.

"Welcome, members of the United Oligarchs of Earth," he says, his voice confident and commanding. "Let's talk business."

***

Hannibal lies next to a young woman in her early 20s, their bodies still warm from their recent intimacy. The dimly lit room is filled with a charged silence. The timer on the wall reads 59 seconds. With a sigh, he reluctantly disengages from her, swiping his debit card, and the timer jumps to 30 minutes.

As Hannibal looks around the room, an alarm pierces the air, and a hologram pops up, displaying Hermes Lumina's name. Startled, Hannibal hastily separates from the woman. "Quick, cover yourself up! And don't speak!" he orders, his voice tense.

The woman wraps the covers around her body. Hannibal wipes his face, fixes his hair, and dons a robe before tapping the hologram. Hermes appears.

"Mrs. Lumina, you look beautiful as always. What can I do for you?" Hannibal asks, anxiety evident in his voice.

Hermes glances at the woman but remains focused. "Hannibal, the intro videos' viewership is down from last year, both online and on TV. We need you to make it more exciting than ever," she says in a monotone.

"Of course! Anything for the families and the show. Perhaps once this season is over, I could be more valuable in an executive role at the company?"

"Hannibal, you're a wonderful host. That's where we need you. Okay? Have a great day."

The hologram cuts off.

"Why!?" Hannibal yells, his frustration boiling over.

"What's wrong? You don't like your job?" the young woman asks, her voice trembling.

"I need more. I want more," Hannibal replies, his eyes blazing with ambition.

He punches the bed, and the young woman nervously chuckles, causing him to glare at her.

"You think that's funny?"

"No... no! It was just a joke. I'm sorry!"

Hannibal approaches the young woman, his expression dark. "Yeah, you are sorry!"

In an empty alley, a homeless man rummages through a trash can. He recoils in horror at the sight of the young woman's lifeless body, discarded among the garbage. Dark, telltale marks mar her neck, a haunting and chilling sign of the brutal end she met.