Over the rooftop of a looming tower, Damien watched the illustrious evening skylines of New York. Strands of his jet-black hair fluttered as his sable-tinted gaze narrowed.
Staten Island was pitch-black; there was no one and nothing. The SIGIL Headquarters was long gone, annihilated by the seventh Paragon.
The strongest of humanity.
"No repairs are currently taking place in Staten Island. It seems that no one wants to reconstruct the headquarters." He furrowed his eyebrows and added.
"Evidence, huh? Ensuring that the gravity of the matter remains consequential. It does a good job of distressing the public, making them fearful."
"I see... This isn't merely about the seventh Paragon. It targets Jaegers and Metahumans as a whole." Damien nodded to himself, realizing the abyssal depth of the conspiracy.
The Shadow Division he had defeated in the northern fringes might not have been the body of the organization. It could have been the only tendril it has revealed.
