In The USL…
Walter Thompson sat on a plush leather sofa, his fingers rythimically tapping the edge of the table beside him.
Across from him, a man in a tailored suit was engaged in a conversation, the occasional clink of ice against glass punctuating their words as Walter swirled a drink absentmindedly, his gaze drifting to the approachhing figure of his secretary.
The man's face was pale, his steps hesitant as he neared. Walter raised a hand, halting the ongoing discussion. His sharp eyes turned toward the secretary, his expression unreadable.
"Give a mont," Walter said to his companion, his voice smooth yet commanding. As the man nodded and stepped back, Walter's piercing eyes locked onto the nervous figure now standing before him.
"Well?" Walter prompted, his tone calm yet laced with an unspoken edge.
The secretary swallowed hard and raised his head, his face taut with worry. "Sir, we… we've lost contact with the Rajputs."
For a mont, a charged silence filled the room, broken only by the faint ticking of a clock on the far wall that seed to grow louder with each passing mont. Walter's gaze narrowed slightly, though his expression betrayed no surprise.
"Go on," Walter said evenly, leaning back into his seat.
The secretary wiped his brow, his voice trembling as he continued. "Our last communication indicated heavy fighting in Indra. There was… chaos. Gunfire, explosions…it seems a large number of troops were involved. We suspect it was a coordinated assault, but since then we've received no confirmation. All of our personnel stationed there have gone silent."
Walter's eyes darkened as he exhaled slowly as if contemplating the weight of the situation. Yet, rather than alarm, there was a faint glimr of curiosity, perhaps even amusent, in his expression.
"So," Walter murmured, his voice low, "a family that has ruled with such influence for generations… reduced to this."
He rose to his feet with deliberate slow movent, his tall fra casting a shadow over the trembling secretary. For a brief mont, his lips curled into a faint smirk.
"What are you so afraid of?" Walter asked, his tone light, almost mocking. "This is the way of the world, isn't it? Families rise, families fall. Thrones are taken, and thrones are lost. It's nothing new."
The secretary nodded quickly, unsure how to respond. Walter's expression shifted, the humor vanishing as quickly as it had appeared. His eyes turned cold, sharp as a dagger.
"But," Walter said, his voice dropping to a chilling monotone, "I don't care who rules Indra. I don't care about their petty battles, their struggles for power, or the chaos they create—all that is irrelevant to . What I care about is that they follow the rules of the Federation." Discover exclusive tales on empire
He began to pace slowly, his steps muffled by the thick rug beneath him. His mind flicked back to the last ti a similar situation had arisen, threatening their carefully maintained secrecy.
A ti when the Federation's existence had spilled into the public domain. It had been a disaster. The incident had spiraled out of control—conspiracy theories had run rampant, and unrest had spread like wildfire, threatening the very order they had worked so hard to maintain.
"The last ti this happened, the world nearly tore itself apart," Walter said aloud, irritation creeping into his voice. "Rumors about a hidden group controlling governnts sparked chaos in nearly every corner of the globe. People started throwing accusations, governnts destabilized… and all because soone failed to contain their ss."
His gaze snapped back to the secretary, his tone harsh. "We cannot afford a repeat of that disaster. This situation must be resolved quietly. I don't want the Federation dragged into the light."
The secretary nodded quickly, his anxiety palpable.
"For now, we'll stand by and let the dust settle," Walter continued. "Once the situation becos clearer, send a ssage to the one pulling strings on the other side."
"And what should the ssage say, sir?" the secretary asked cautiously.
Walter's eyes glead with icy resolve. "Tell him this: the Federation has no quarrel with who controls Indra. But they will follow the terms set by the Federation. Failure to comply… will not be tolerated."
The secretary bowed slightly and retreated, leaving Walter alone once more.
Walter returned to his seat, a slight smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he swirled the amber liquid in his glass.
"Let the fools play their gas," he murmured to himself. "But they'll learn soon enough who truly holds the strings."
The storm outside had quieted, but within the halls of the Federation's shadowy influence, a tempest had just started breing—one orchestrated by Walter Thompson himself.
Walter took a mont to compose himself after the secretary left, his thoughts still lingering on the Rajput situation. Then, brushing off the lingering tension, he turned and walked back to his guest. His stride was deliberate, his expression calm, yet there was an air of authority around him that filled the room.
"Well, Elyon," Walter said smoothly as he approached, his voice warm yet commanding, "now we have all the ti."
Elyon Husk, the world's richest man, looked up from his seat. With a public net worth of $500 billion, he was a figure that few dared to ignore. Renowned as a visionary, Elyon had revolutionized industries ranging from electric vehicles and space exploration to artificial intelligence and sustainable energy. He was credited with building entire ecosystems that had reshaped the global economy.
Elyon's companies dominated markets worldwide. His electric vehicle empire had made gasoline cars nearly obsolete, and his ambitious space projects had led humanity toward interplanetary colonization. His recent innovations in neural tech had created devices that seamlessly integrated human thoughts with machines, further solidifying his reputation as the ultimate innovator.
Despite all this, Elyon Husk wasn't a man who flaunted his power recklessly. He was tall and lean, and carried himself with a confident yet thoughtful deanor. His sharp eyes hinted at his relentless drive, while his disheveled hair and casual clothing gave him an eccentric edge. Yet, as Walter addressed him, Elyon rose to his feet, offering a small nod of respect.
"Was there any big trouble, Sir Walter?" Elyon asked politely.
The way he addressed Walter spoke volus. Despite his imnse wealth and influence, Elyon understood that Walter was soone who operated on an entirely different plane. Walter wasn't just a man of wealth; he controlled the hidden chanisms of power. Elyon knew that if Walter ever deed it necessary, he could dismantle everything he had built with a single command.
Walter chuckled lightly, waving off the concern. "Nothing troubleso. Just a new power rising and making waves."
Elyon raised an eyebrow, his curiosity piqued. "Hmm. Who is it?"
Walter's smile widened, a knowing glint in his eyes. "It's a young man nad Evan. You might not have heard much about him yet, but he's the one behind so of the major political shifts happening recently."
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