INT. SYNDICATE NETWORK – CONFERENCE CALL
A grid of faces fills the screen — crime lords, kingpins, silent shadows.
Red Dot Syndicate:
"We're making our move. I never trusted Black Bear. He was hiding something."
Giant Syndicate:
"We're closest to the city. We're in."
Iron Claw Syndicate:
"Count us in."
King's Sword:
"We draw our blades."
Then a distorted, icy voice enters the call.
Forever Winter (elderly voice):
"So... everyone's coming to dance."
Iron Claw:
"You're too far from the city, Winter. Sit this one out."
Forever Winter:
"You don't know our reach."
Static. The screen fades.
Giant Syndicate Boss:
"War is inevitable now."
---
INT. GOVERNMENT HEADQUARTERS – LATE NIGHT
Panic is backlit in fluorescent lighting. Files flying. Coffee cups shaking.
Minister:
"What do you mean Forever Winter is moving?! Did we not tell them it's just 50–100 kilograms?!"
Analyst:
"They think it's tons, sir. They think we're hiding the real amount."
Minister:
"They're staging a war over a modest wedding ring's worth of platinum?"
Analyst:
"Should we contact them?"
Minister (deadpan):
"Of course. You think governments and syndicates don't talk? Tell the secretary to make the call."
---
VIDEO CALL – MINISTER & FOREVER WINTER
Elder Voice (smiling through static):
"Minister. How nostalgic. Finally remembered my number?"
Minister:
"It's 50 to 100 kilos. Not tons. That's the real intel."
Forever Winter:
"I believe you."
Minister:
"Wait... really?"
Forever Winter:
"Of course. Whether it's kilos or tons doesn't matter."
Minister:
"Then why are you moving troops?!"
Forever Winter:
"Oh, Minister. We don't move for money."
Minister:
"Then what for?"
Forever Winter (calmly):
"To capture a city."
Call ends.
The minister stares at the black screen. Everyone in the room is frozen.
Minister (softly):
"This isn't crime anymore… this is war. We just escalated into terrorism."
He slumps into his chair.
"I should've never picked up that call. Ignorance truly was bliss."
---
INT. REN'S BALCONY – NIGHT
Ren leans against the railing. The cityscape glows under a quiet sky. A faint explosion rumbles in the distance. Sirens wail like tired lullabies.
Ren squints.
"Ah... the city's gotten so peaceful lately."
He breathes in.
"No traffic. Clean streets. Less people. Fewer pigeons."
Distant rocket launcher fires.
"Just a few firecrackers now and then."
He turns to his teddy bear.
"Come on, buddy. Let's go watch The Lion King. Maybe today we'll figure out who the real lion king is."
---
INT. POLICE STATION – WAR ROOM
Phones are ringing off the hook. Officers scrambling. Papers flying like desperate birds.
Officer:
"Sir, we just got a call from the Minister."
Officer Grad:
"Let me guess. Red alert?"
Officer:
"No sir… real red alert."
Grad:
"We've had six fake red alerts this week. What is this? Red Christmas? Red wedding?"
Officer (grave):
"It's the military, sir."
Grad drops his pen. Looks up slowly.
"What… do you mean… military?"
Officer:
"In 48 hours, deployment begins. Full-scale evacuation. City lockdown. Operation Steel Curtain."
Grad stares at the floor like it personally betrayed him.
"Call the Minister. Now."
---
VIDEO CALL – MINISTER & OFFICER GRAD
Grad:
"Sir, have you lost your entire mind?! Why is the military being deployed?"
Minister (dead-eyed):
"Intel confirms syndicates are no longer after platinum. They're after the city. Territory grab."
Grad:
"They want to own the city?! What is this, Monopoly: Criminal Edition?!"
Minister:
"You asked for support. Well… here it is."
Call ends.
Grad:
"Hello? Hello??"
Silence.
Junior Officer (whispers):
"Sir… what do we do now?"
Grad (muttering):
"They ask me… but who the hell do I ask?"
---
INT. GIANT SYNDICATE HQ
Door SLAMS open.
Underling:
"Boss! The military's coming!!"
Boss (does not look up):
"I swear on my dead parrot, if one more person slams a door—"
Underling (nervous):
"They're deploying tanks. Tanks."
The boss finally looks up. Soul leaves body.
"Tanks… for platinum?"
He slumps into his chair.
"What are we even fighting for anymore? Land? Minerals? Is this a Marvel crossover? Did we piss off NATO?"
Deep breath. Composure.
"Get every asset we have. We're moving before they arrive."
---
INT. MONTAGE – ACROSS THE CITY
Crime lords arm soldiers.
Assassins load custom pistols.
Armored vehicles roll through alleys.
Syndicates rally in secret bunkers.
Dust clouds rise like ancient storms.
The city becomes a breathing battlefield.
---
INT. REN'S APARTMENT – EARLY EVENING
Cough cough.
Ren (annoyed):
"Ugh. Why is it so dusty here?"
He walks to the balcony. Dust clouds swirl across the orange sky. A dramatic, ominous boom echoes from somewhere far away.
Ren (squinting):
"Wow. What a beautiful sunset."
"All it's missing is war drums and a noble death monologue."
He shuts the window, totally unfazed.
"Anyway. Time to sweep the floor."
He hums the Lion King theme softly to himself as the city descends into war behind him.
---