—CEO Aleric Venn, Numinex Corporation
[Location: Numinex Executive Strata | Pinnacle Spire, Floor 201 | 07:02 Global Time]
Aleric Venn had never looked out the windows of the Pinnacle Tower and felt anything but pride.
Below, the world moved like data—clean, modular, efficient.
His company's ORBs were in one out of every three households.
Every family, every soldier, every medic, every judge—tethered to something he'd signed into existence.
But this morning, his reflection in the glass looked tired.
A transport. Hijacked.
Under my watch. In a system I perfected.
No one in the upper board had said it aloud yet.
But he knew the term hanging over him like a drone's shadow:
"Leadership Reassessment."
[Emergency Board Assembly – 07:10 GT]
The holotable pulsed as each board member blinked in.
Thirteen seats. Twelve occupied. One standing—Aleric.
"This is unprecedented," muttered Director Helva, brushing dust from a virtual dossier. "A G-ORB route, compromised. A Solari-tier consignment. And we didn't even see it coming."
"Is this a failure of protocol?" said another.
"Or a failure of oversight?" said a third, staring directly at Venn.
Aleric let the silence breathe—let them smell their own fear masked as anger.
Then he spoke.
"This breach is not a collapse. It is a correction."
That made them pause.
[The Proposal]
"For years, we've built walls. We've added shields. Firewalls. Cloaks.
But someone found the gaps. Someone maneuvered around our data-sentinels and intercepted a linked G-ORB transport. They studied us, modeled us, and acted. That is not luck. That is war."
He pressed a button. A new model bloomed above the table: a sweeping corporate security lattice, overhauled from ground up.
"I propose a full-scale reconfiguration of Numinex's internal and external security systems. Not just to protect employees—but to safeguard the legacy products, especially ORBs."
"That's a hailmary," said one of the old investors, scoffing. "A reorg this size will signal panic. The press will eat us."
"And who would lead such a restructuring?" another sneered. "You?"
Aleric didn't flinch.
"No," he said. "I've already chosen the lead architect."
He tapped his ORB twice.
A name flickered onto the holotable.
RYVEN KORR.
Security Grade: Obsidian.
Clearance Level: Beyond Black.
The room shifted. Audible discomfort. Interest. Fear.
[The Name That Stirred Silence]
"Korr?" one murmured. "I thought he was off-grid."
"He was," Aleric replied. "By my request. He's been watching from the shadows for years. Preparing for a moment like this."
"You want to bring back the old spook?"
"I want someone the shadows fear. And Korr doesn't negotiate with chaos."
Silence followed.
Then, one by one, the board members tapped their votes in. The system lit green—unanimous approval.
[Later That Night – Aleric's Quarters]
The city lights shimmered like low data pulses beyond his window.
Aleric sat alone, coat off, drink in hand.
His ORB, a polished silver-core model named Vire, floated near his desk.
Vire: "Doubt is a rare frequency for you, sir."
Aleric smirked without warmth.
"I've spent my entire life building a fortress that doesn't blink. And yet... I feel like something is watching it crumble, from within."
Vire: "You made a strategic choice. Not a safe one."
"Sometimes they're the same. Sometimes they're bullets in different guns."
He stood and walked to the console.
Vire: "Do you want to review the board meeting logs again?"
"No."
Aleric entered his private code, then pressed his palm to the table.
A retinal scanner blinked. Then accepted.
CONFIDENTIAL PROTOCOL UNLOCKED: PROJECT OBELISK
Status: Dormant
Subject: Commander Ryven Korr
ACTION: Reactivation Request – Pending Approval
He typed in two words: "Time's come."
Then hit SEND.
[END SCENE – ACTIVATE: RYVEN KORR]