Far away in the snowy isolation of the Himalayas, hidden beneath a dome of frost and code-shielded rock, the Syndicate's secret headquarters buzzed with tension.
Inside the cold chamber lit by eerie blue lights, Nilgiris paced back and forth, his boots crunching softly on the icy floor.
His mind was boiling.
Not with code. Not with logic.
But with revenge.
He was done relying on programming, algorithms, and artificial intelligence. That had failed him miserably against two annoying teenagers—Mike and Jake.
Somehow, those boys had cracked his most sophisticated patterns, dismantled his commands, and exposed his greatest secrets to the world.
This time, Nilgiris wanted to fight dirty.
No more clean keyboard attacks.
This was going to be personal.
He slammed his hand on the glowing conference table.
Nilgiris:
"Syndicate, assemble!"
Slowly, the seven members of the Elite Syndicate entered the room, all dressed in dark cloaks with holographic linings that shimmered like broken television screens.
One by one, they took their seats around the table. Some looked bored. Some curious. And one was chewing something suspiciously loud—probably ancient yak jerky.
Nilgiris stood at the head.
Nilgiris:
"We're going old school.
No codes.
No AI.
No remote attacks.
This time, we hit them where it hurts. We destroy their lighthouse. And we do it the human way—cheating, stealing, lying. And if needed..."
He leaned forward dramatically.
Nilgiris:
"Backstabbing."
There was silence for a second.
Then a snort came from the back.
It was Asher—the boldest (and possibly most foolish) member of the Syndicate. His IQ was... arguable. His confidence? Unshakable.
Asher (grinning):
"Well, if we're going full high school villain mode, why don't we find their weakness? I mean, what do teenagers love more than their tech?"
Nilgiris tilted his head, intrigued.
Nilgiris:
"Go on."
Asher:
"Could be anything... family, drugs, fame, pizza..."
Nilgiris (interrupting):
"Too slow. Narrow it down."
Asher (snapping fingers):
"Girls!"
The entire room went silent.
Then someone coughed. Someone else tried not to laugh.
But Nilgiris suddenly lit up like a corrupted Christmas tree.
Nilgiris (clapping):
"YES! Girls! What else do hormonal, overconfident teenage boys think about all day?"
Asher puffed up his chest.
Asher:
"That's why I'm part of the planet's elite."
Sariah, the quiet tactician of the group, raised an eyebrow.
Sariah:
"Seriously? This is our master plan? Send a girl?"
Nilgiris nodded like he'd found the holy grail.
Nilgiris:
"Not just any girl.
A carefully chosen, trained, smart and charming spy. Someone who can pretend to be interested in their little Null Frank club. Win their trust.
Infiltrate their safe space. And then... steal the secrets of the Lighthouse."
Sariah (dryly):
"Ah, espionage. But make it flirty."
Nilgiris:
"Exactly. Boys like Jake and Mike will fall for it like moths into a blue-screen-of-death."
Asher (still grinning):
"Operation Crush Activated!"
Nilgiris ignored the name.
Nilgiris:
"Let's find the perfect girl. Someone smart, but not too smart to raise suspicion. Cool, but just awkward enough to seem relatable. We'll program her background, plant her in their school, and let nature take its cringe-worthy teenage course."
Sariah:
"Do you want her to carry a love letter too, or maybe accidentally drop a notebook with hearts around Jake's name?"
Nilgiris:
"Sarcasm noted and rejected. This is war, not a rom-com."
The team got to work.
By evening, they had their candidate: Rhea—a trained illusionist and language expert from Syndicate South.
She could mimic accents, fake emotional responses, and survive a six-hour call filled with teenage banter without rolling her eyes once.
Truly a talent.
Nilgiris stood at the head of the room, his shadow stretching long under the flickering ceiling lights.
He turned, cloak swaying just enough to make it dramatic (on purpose), and locked eyes with each of them in turn.
"Our plan," he began slowly, voice rich with control, "to send Rhea in between Jake and Mike… must remain top secret. No one outside this room hears about it."
He raised a gloved hand, a signal that what followed next was not a discussion, but decree.
"Rhea will get close. Gain their trust. And when the moment is right, she will crush their alliance from the inside. Break them. Steal the Lighthouse. Win this war. That's our edge. Our move. Our secret weapon."
He narrowed his eyes, focusing now on the strategist standing stiffly to the side.
"Especially—no word to the Elixr Council." His voice dropped to a low warning. "You got me?"
Then turned to Asher.
"And Asher," he said sharply, "watch your mouth. You've been getting too comfortable with your 'advice.' Keep your thoughts trimmed and your tongue on a leash."
Asher blinked, clearly offended. "But.. what?"
Nilgiris didn't miss a beat.
"Keep quiet, you moron."
Rhea, ever composed, gave a subtle bow. Her expression was unreadable, but her eyes glinted with something sharp and calculating.
"Understood. The mission is mine now."
Her voice was calm but carried weight.
"I'll break them from the inside. One thought at a time."
Nilgiris allowed himself a rare smile.
"Good. From this moment on, you're my Commandant Number One."
He said it like a knight was being anointed, though with more edge and less ceremony.
Sariah finally stepped forward, arms crossed but her tone steady.
"I still have my doubts about this plan."
She glanced at Rhea.
"Infiltration is messy. Personal. Unpredictable."
She sighed.
"But... I'll stand by you. All of you. For now."
Nilgiris nodded. For once, he didn't argue. He didn't need to. He knew time was against them.
He looked toward the main command screen as it flickered to life, showing movement across Halewick again—Jake and Mike were still a threat, and The Lighthouse still pulsed like a beacon of truth they couldn't afford.
"Then it's decided," he declared, stepping up to the console like a general at war.
"Before the Elixr Council sends its next command, we strike first. We don't wait. We excel."
He raised his hand, dramatic as always, as the Architecta crest spun on the hologram behind him.
"Let the Special Architects thrive once more. As we did in the past—glorious, feared, and unstoppable."
The room filled with a slow wave of determined silence. Not quite cheering, but the kind of stillness before something important begins.
The game was on.
And Rhea had just become the most dangerous one of them all.