President Kael Draven's POV
Two hours after publicly aligning with the Blackwood Empire
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The cameras had gone cold.
The broadcast was over.
The mask was off.
I stood in silence as the massive steel door sealed shut behind my security detail, isolating me in the Situation Room — or what was left of it. The holographic table still flickered from the last feed. Blackwood's crest hovered in the air like a silent god watching everything.
I poured myself a drink. Didn't sip. Just stared at the glass.
I'd just signed my nation's soul away.
No, let's not lie. Darnova had no soul left.
What we had was rubble, rebellion, and rot.
Chris Blackwood just gave us life.
In exchange, he took everything else.
The room buzzed. A secure commlink activated.
VOICE (filtered):
"Sir… Vandora just issued a full statement. They're cutting all diplomatic ties with Darnova."
I didn't even flinch.
KAEL DRAVEN:
"And Seltrine?"
VOICE:
"Mobilizing naval units near our east border. No official declaration yet, but… they're baiting us."
Figures.
I turned toward the wall map — glowing red dots where old allies used to be. They weren't allies now. They were vultures, angry we didn't die where they could pick our bones clean.
But now?
Now we had Blackwood tanks. Blackwood drones. Blackwood intelligence. We had fear. Not ours. Theirs.
And we had something else too — a target on our backs.
DRAVEN (to himself):
"You gave us weapons, Chris…
But I wonder…
Did you just arm your next enemy?"
I sat down.
And for the first time in years, I smiled.
Because even though I'd bent the knee…
That didn't mean I'd stay down forever.
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