The rain hadn't let up for three days now. Every pipe in the Brass Citadel hissed ominously, as if concealing its own dark secrets, and the air was thick with the acrid stench of oil and gunpowder.
Fitran stood on the central platform of the Command Spire, gazing down at the rooftops below as steam plumes twisted and danced in the air. He clenched his jaw, the weight of the temporary charter the Directorate had thrust upon him settling heavily on his shoulders. "This place feels like a graveyard," he whispered to himself, "and here I am, just a caretaker." At that moment, he turned to see Oda joining him, her footsteps resonating against the metal surface. "What's the status on the sweep?" she asked, arms crossed tightly, her expression a blend of determination and concern.
The burden of responsibility had fallen squarely on him, tasked with both clearing out the remnants of chaos and maintaining control afterwards. Fitran's gaze flickered to a nearby [ SYSTEM PANEL ] that suddenly illuminated with a harsh glow between them.
ACTIVE MISSIONS:
Sweep & Secure District Seven – 3/10 sectors cleared.
Faction Stability – 43% (critical risk of rebellion).
Chimera Protocol – 6/6 Candidates Active.
"Three sectors? You do realize they won't stop until every last one of us is gone, right?" Oda's voice penetrated the tension, sharp and laced with anxiety. Fitran nodded, feeling the weight in his chest grow heavier. "I understand, Oda. But we can manage this. We have to. I refuse to let them take everything back."
At that moment, Zephyra stepped forward, her fingers gripping the edge of the platform as she gazed down at the turmoil below. "Remember what happened last time," she murmured, her voice low and serious. "If we lose our edge, it will be far worse than anything we've faced before." Rinoa, with her keen strategic mind, chimed in, "We need to make a stop at the supply lines again. I'm sensing trouble with our resources depleting. Freya's already been sounding alarms about that intel."
The mention of Freya's name caused a shift within Fitran, an undercurrent of emotion flickering beneath the surface. "Right, before we lose any more ground," he said, forcing a calm demeanor over the twinge of jealousy rising within him. "But we need to prioritize clearing those sectors first."
As their discussion unfolded, the panel continued to flash vital information:
GRINDING BONUS: +15% Affinity gain during combat missions.
PREGNANCY TIMER: Not initiated.
Iris arrived moments later, her face reflecting both determination and worry. "We can't afford to split up. If we end up isolated…" she hesitated, her eyes wide with concern. Fitran met her gaze, a silent vow passing between them. "We won't be caught alone. We stick together, no matter what."
The rain outside grew heavier, casting a rhythmic drumming sound against the walls as they locked eyes, the gravity of their situation pressing down on them like a thick fog. Oda stepped forward, her voice slicing through the tension. "Let's get this over with," she said, determination etched on her features, ready to dive headfirst into the turmoil that awaited.
Faction Stability – 43% (critical risk of rebellion).
Chimera Protocol – 6/6 Candidates Active.
GRINDING BONUS: +15% Affinity gain during combat missions.
PREGNANCY TIMER: Not started.
Fitran let out a frustrated sigh, muttering under his breath. "All of this just to keep our kind from going extinct," he grumbled, a hint of bitterness in his voice.
Oda emerged from the elevator behind him, her exosuit stripped down to its bare frame for maintenance, and shot him a playful smirk. "You make it sound like you're not secretly reveling in the spotlight, Fitran. Since when did you turn into such a pessimist?"
"It's not the spotlight I'm worried about," he replied, pinching the bridge of his nose, feeling the weight of unrelenting pressure. "This peaceful moment won't last. You know it won't."
"And if it somehow does, we'll know we've managed to pull through," Oda countered, her tone balancing steadiness with a flicker of concern. "You should let yourself believe that possibility."
[ JEALOUSY TRIGGER – Oda vs. Iris ]
Zephyra piped up, her voice a mix of sharp wit and lightheartedness. "Always the optimist, aren't you, Oda? What's your grand vision? A picnic to celebrate the end of this rebellion?"
Freya let out a soft chuckle, her back resting casually against the cool wall. "A break wouldn't be the worst thing in the world, but we both know that's not happening. So, what's our game plan, Fitran?"
Fitran took a moment to scrutinize the screen, his brow furrowing as he mentally pieced together their next steps. "First, we clear two more sectors, secure the fuel caches, and take out any remaining Black Faction lieutenants." He fixed her with a serious look. "Stay alert. They won't just roll over for us."
Oda edged closer, her expression serious. "And if trouble finds us? We can't afford to lose anyone in this fight."
Fitran's gaze held hers, a shared weight of unvoiced fears electrifying the space between them. "We'll get through this. Just stick together. We've faced worse before."
"True enough, but I have this nagging feeling that this time, we might not have a second chance," Zephyra interjected, determination sparking in her voice. "Let's make it clear that they've picked the wrong fight."
Freya teased, a playful glint in her eyes. "And when this is all over, will you finally admit there's more to life than just surviving, Fitran?"
He managed a half-smile, the tension still evident in his posture. "Perhaps, but let's focus on surviving today first."
With that, Fitran pivoted toward the exit, ready to take action. The air was thick with determination and the weight of untold rivalries, each step heavier than the last.
By noon, Fitran was already advancing with Zephyra and Freya flanking him. "We need to move quickly to clear these sectors," he instructed, his voice steady as he bore the weight of their mission. "We must secure the fuel caches and deal with those Black Faction lieutenants—there's no room for mistakes."
The streets were cramped and twisted, the remnants of the old regime's propaganda strewn about like the scattered thoughts of a broken people. Fitran cast his gaze upon the burnt fragments of their lies, his heart heavy with unresolved anger. "Take a good look, ladies. This is what we fight against," he murmured, his jaw clenched tight, betraying the frustration simmering just under the surface. In the distance, the sharp click of a wind-up rifle rang out, an ominous reminder of the threat lurking in the shadows. "Stay sharp," he warned, his voice low and steady.
Zephyra crouched at the corner, her eyes darting upwards to the rooftop. "Two on the roof, one in the alley. We'll take out the roof first," she whispered, her voice tinged with focus as her gaze fixed on the targets, assessing the situation with tactical precision.
"I've got your back," Freya assured her, reloading her rifle with practiced ease, her voice calm despite the intensity of the moment. "But you take the alley; it'll be quieter that way." Freya maintained a steady demeanor, yet the edge of tension was evident, lurking just beneath her calm exterior.
Fitran nodded, a coil of anxiety tightening in his gut. "Let's execute this as we practiced. Move in smoothly." With the graceful efficiency of someone who had danced this dance before, he advanced, each step calculated, the urgency of their mission igniting his focus.
With a single shot, the crack of the rifle shattered the silence, a sound too loud for the haunting stillness.
One body slid lifelessly to the cobblestones. Zephyra couldn't help but smirk, "Nice and clean. They never see it coming."
"That's one less problem for us to deal with," Fitran replied, scanning their surroundings swiftly. "Let's check the alley."
The alley lay bare before them, an eerie calm settling in, but the thick air still crackled with unspoken danger. Each breath felt heavy—a reminder that their journey was far from over.
[ SYSTEM UPDATE – Combat Efficiency +3% ]
[ AFFINITY – Zephyra +2 ]
As the smoke curled and dissipated, unveiling the consequences of their actions, Freya's voice sliced through the tension in the air. "Two crates of fuel and three gear cores. Not too shabby, right?"
[ LOOT ACQUIRED ]
Fuel Reserves: +12 units
Gear Cores: +3 (upgrade currency)
Back at the Citadel, Fitran turned toward Freya, a serious look etched on his face. "We need to divvy this up between Defense Upgrades and Enhancing our Quarters."
Freya nodded in agreement, her brow furrowing slightly. "I think improving the quarters should take precedence for us right now."
"Exactly. Those quarters are our lifeline for Affinity Events. If we ignore that, the pregnancy system stays unavailable to us," he added, his tone filled with urgency.
Fitran's gaze drifted toward the north wing, catching sight of Rinoa leaning against the door to his room, her arms crossed firmly over her chest. Her blue eyes sparkled with a mix of annoyance and intrigue. "You've been MIA all day, haven't you?" she commented, her tone sharp as glass. "And I've heard whispers about you working *closely* with Zephyra."
"It was just a mission," Fitran replied, striving to keep his voice calm, even as the air crackled with tension.
"A mission, huh?" Rinoa's lips twisted into a teasing smirk, but her eyes held a challenge that didn't go unnoticed. "I thought I was your main priority. If I'm not part of this, what's the point?"
[ JEALOUSY RISK – High ]
[ OPTION: Diffuse / Tease / Confront ]
Fitran couldn't help but let a smirk play on his lips as he stepped closer, his presence commanding as he shadowed her against the door. There was a playful defiance in his stance, a spark in the air. "Maybe you should stop waiting for an invitation, Rinoa," he teased, his voice low and inviting.
Her breath hitched, surprise dancing in her eyes, just enough to trigger the panel's response. The atmosphere around them crackled, heavy with an unspoken tension that seemed to linger like a delicate thread pulling them closer.
[ AFFINITY – Rinoa +4 ]
[ PREGNANCY COMPATIBILITY CHECK – Passed ]
The next evening, Iris strode into his quarters without so much as a knock. "You know," Fitran said with a raised eyebrow, his voice tinged with a mix of disbelief and annoyance, "just barging in unannounced is a bit rude."
Iris laughed, a mischievous glimmer in her eyes. "Rude? Come on, I'd say it's just more efficient. Besides, the system's primed and ready for us. We have some business to discuss," she replied, her tone playful yet pragmatic.
"I'm not sure what you mean," Fitran said, a note of caution creeping into his voice, wary of where the conversation might lead.
"Oh, don't play coy with me," Iris said, leaning against the wall with an air of confidence, her tone lighthearted yet firm. "You and Rinoa, there's clearly something brewing beneath the surface."
Fitran felt his expression tighten, a storm of uncertainty and ambition flickering in his gaze. "What's that supposed to mean, exactly?"
Iris moved closer, her voice a conspiratorial whisper. "Just remember, with great power comes a whole lot of complexity. Don't forget what really matters in the midst of all this," she warned, her eyes locking onto his with an intensity that made his heart race.
[ AFFINITY – Rinoa +4 ]
[ PREGNANCY COMPATIBILITY CHECK – Passed ]
That evening, Iris slipped into his quarters, not bothering to knock. As she entered, a soft chime echoed in the room, signaling the start of an unspoken protocol.
[ EXCLUSIVE EVENT – Chimera Candidate: Iris Gaia ]
Bonus: +10% Faction Stability for successful conception.
She gently closed the door behind her, deliberately taking her time as her golden eyes locked onto Fitran. "We can't afford to waste a moment," she urged, tension lacing her words. "My people are relying on us."
Fitran leaned back in his chair, studying her features. "Are we really doing this again? Can't we have a single conversation without the burden of politics hanging over us?"
"I came here," she said, stepping closer, a charged air enveloping them, "to secure my nation's future. If that means we start tonight, then so be it."
Fitran's expression darkened with a mix of desire and determination as he took in the resolve etched across Iris' face. Rising from his chair, he towered over her, his imposing presence matching the gravity of the moment. "If that's what you truly desire, my queen, then who am I to stand in your way?"
He reached out with sturdy hands, grasping her hips and drawing her intimately against him. Iris let out a soft gasp as she felt the undeniable evidence of his arousal pressed against her belly. With an intensity that took her breath away, Fitran's mouth captured hers in a fiery kiss, his tongue boldly seeking entrance.
Iris melted into the kiss, her arms wrapping around his neck as she pressed herself even closer, losing herself in the moment. Fitran's hands wandered over her body, tracing the curve of her figure before gripping the hem of her dress and gently tugging it upward. He broke the kiss only to pull the garment over her head, leaving her in nothing but her delicate undergarments.
"You're exquisite," he murmured with a growl, his hands molding her breasts through the sheer fabric, savoring the sensation of her sensitive nipples pressing against his palms. A soft whimpered sigh escaped Iris, her core tightening with an insatiable need.
In one swift movement, Fitran lifted her effortlessly and carried her to the bed, laying her down on the soft furs that awaited them. He quickly rid himself of his own garments, the urgency of the moment electrifying the air around them. Before long, they were both completely exposed, each gaze hungry for the other.
Iris's breath hitched as her eyes traveled over his sculpted, tattooed body. She took in the powerful lines of his broad shoulders and chest, the definition of his arms, the sculpted abs leading down to his narrow hips, and finally resting on his erect manhood, proudly jutting forth from his muscular thighs.
"Are you ready, my queen?" he asked, his voice deep and rough with desire, sending shivers down her spine.
With an eager nod, Iris replied, "Yes, Fitran. I need you now."
He settled between her parted thighs, the tip of his member teasingly nudging against her slick entrance. With a primal need, Fitran thrust forward, completely sheathing himself within her tight warmth. A shared moan escaped their lips, a testament to the exquisite sensation enveloping them both.
He became lost in the rhythm, setting a hard, demanding pace that sent waves of pleasure coursing through their bodies. Iris welcomed each thrust, meeting him with fervor, her hips instinctively rising to embrace him. As their bodies collided, sweat glistened on their skin, the intensity of their coupling spiraling into a frenzied dance of passion.
Iris felt the thrill of her climax building rapidly within her. "Fitran, I'm so close!" she cried out, her nails digging into the taut muscles of his back.
"Let go for me, Iris," he growled, his voice thick with desire. "I want to feel every part of you."
With a keening cry, she shattered, her inner muscles clamping down around him as waves of ecstasy washed over her. The sensation of her climax sent Fitran spiraling over the edge as well, and with a fierce roar, he released himself deep inside her.
They collapsed together on the furs, both gasping for breath, the world around them fading as they sought to regain their composure. Iris knew, without a doubt, that the bond they had just forged held the promise of something profound. Fitran would be the one to fulfill her people's desperate need for a child.
A warm breeze caressed Iris' skin as she stood on the balcony, gazing down at the gardens that stretched out below. Yet, even the serene beauty of the night could not quell the fire simmering in her veins. She traced her fingers over the curves of her breasts through the soft silk of her robe, feeling her nipples harden under her touch.
A deep chuckle resonated behind her, rich and inviting. "Already craving more, my insatiable queen?"
She turned to see Fitran leaning casually against the doorway, his loosely tied pants accentuating his growing arousal in the soft glow of the night. His smoldering gaze swept over the contours of her barely concealed body, an invitation wrapped in desire.
Iris let her robe slip off one shoulder, exposing the soft swell of her breast. "And if I am?" she breathed, her voice laced with a mix of challenge and longing. "What will you do about it?"
His eyes darkened with an unmistakable lust as he prowled closer, his intentions clear. "I'll give you everything you crave. Again and again, until you're completely spent and pliant in my arms."
As he reached her, he seized the fabric of her robe and tore it away, leaving her exposed to his hungry gaze. "So breathtaking," he whispered, his hands cupping her breasts as he flicked his thumbs over her sensitive nipples. "I don't think I'll ever tire of you."
Iris let out a soft moan, feeling the heat pooling in her core. The wetness coated her thighs, a testament to her eagerness. At this pace, she feared she would always remain slick and eager for his touch.
"My insatiable queen," Fitran purred, his fingers trailing seductively down her belly to the sensitive juncture of her thighs. "Is this all meant for me?"
With a teasing dip of his finger into her glistening heat, he swirled it with expert precision. Iris cried out, instinctively arching her back against his touch, longing for more. He captured her lips in a passionate kiss, his ministrations below shaping her every thought.
"Please, Fitran," she begged, breathless against his mouth. "I need… I need…" Her words faltered, lost in the wave of sensation.
"Shh, I know just what you need." He withdrew his fingers, spinning her gently to face the balcony railing. "Now, hold on tight."
Iris tightened her grip on the cool stone balustrade, her knuckles turning pale from the pressure. Behind her, she could hear the unmistakable sound of fabric shifting as he pushed his trousers down, anticipation tingling through her. The blunt tip of his manhood pressed insistently against her entrance, causing her breath to hitch.
With one powerful thrust, he buried himself deep within her. A cry of sheer ecstasy escaped Iris's lips, the raw sound carrying through the quiet gardens below. Fitran established a relentless rhythm, his hips colliding with her backside, each thrust setting her senses ablaze.
The depraved symphony of skin meeting skin intertwined with their primal grunts and moans, reverberating in the air around them. Iris felt the familiar tightening within her—a climax building rapidly, coiling like a spring ready to snap.
"Harder!" she urged breathlessly, pressing back against him, craving more. "I'm going to...I—!"
Her voice was abruptly silenced as her muscles clenched around Fitran's thrusting member, her climax crashing over her like a tidal wave. With a low, feral growl, he followed suit, losing his rhythm as he filled her completely, their bodies locked in an electrifying moment of shared ecstasy.
They collapsed together onto the smooth marble, their skin glistening with sweat and hearts racing as they gasped for air. It took several heartbeats before either of them had the words to break the heavy silence between them.
"Your stamina is impressive, my queen," Fitran rasped, his voice hoarse with satisfaction. "I might just have to keep you bare and in my bed all the time."
Iris let out a soft, breathless laugh, amusement dancing in her eyes. "And I could say the same about you. Shall we declare that all important affairs of state must be addressed while we indulge in passion?"
"As you wish, my queen." Fitran captured her lips again, his touch igniting a warmth within her. Iris melted into his embrace, eagerly anticipating the pleasures they would explore together.
"With pleasure," Fitran purred, his voice low and inviting. He lifted her effortlessly, cradling her in his arms as he carried her to the plush divan, laying her gently onto the silk cushions. With deliberate care, he spread her legs wide, revealing her glistening petals to his hungry gaze.
"Look how beautiful you are," he murmured, trailing a finger down her dewy folds, marveling at her softness. "So delicate and inviting, just for me."
A soft whimper escaped Iris as her back arched, a wave of sensation coursing through her when he slowly pushed two fingers inside her warm embrace. "Ahh...Fitran, please..."
"My eager girl," he chided gently, his fingers moving in and out, finding a rhythm within her fluttering warmth. "So desperate to be filled."
With a sudden withdrawal, he left her gasping for more, the emptiness leaving her yearning. Iris mewled in protest but fell silent, breath hitching in her throat as he positioned himself at her entrance. Slowly, painfully slowly, he began to enter her.
Iris gasped, feeling every inch of him stretch her to the brink. He was overwhelming, and as he filled her, she could feel each ridge and vein of his manhood as he claimed her.
"Breathe," Fitran urged, his voice smooth and calming, inching deeper still. "Let me in."
She took a shuddering breath, willing her body to relax, and as he slid fully inside her, she felt the soft tickle of his crisp hair against her sensitive bud.
"There we go," he praised with a soothing tone, beginning to thrust slowly. "Such a good girl, accepting all of me."
Iris could only let out a soft moan, completely engulfed in the overwhelming sensation of being filled to the brim. As Fitran leaned down, his lips found hers, and their connection deepened with each powerful thrust, the divan creaking rhythmically beneath their bodies.
It wasn't long before the familiar heat coiled low in her belly, signaling the approach of her climax once again. "Fitran, I'm so close," she breathed, her nails digging into his back, leaving crescent-shaped marks on his skin.
"Let go for me," he urged, his voice hoarse with desire. "I want to feel you shatter around me." The rawness of his command sent her spiraling over the edge with a piercing cry. Her body tensed, her inner muscles gripping his thickness in a desperate dance. With a throaty groan, Fitran followed suit, pouring his essence into her as he succumbed to the waves of pleasure.
They collapsed together, limbs entwined and slick with sweat. Fitran pressed soft, lingering kisses along Iris' face and neck as they fought to reclaim their breath, the aftershocks of their shared ecstasy still pulsing between them.
"You're going to be the end of me," he murmured, the warmth of his voice wrapping around her like a promise. "But if I must go, I'll do so a happy, sated man."
Iris let out a throaty laugh that sent a thrill through him. "I'm just giving back what you've already given me, my love. I might keep you at this until you're too exhausted to move."
"Is that a promise?" he replied playfully, his voice low and teasing as he rolled his hips, reminding her of his still-ardent desire.
She gasped, the sensation making her clutch at his shoulders. "If you're lucky, I just might."
And so they lost themselves to each other once more, lost in a tempest of passion, writhing and gasping in bliss until they were both left breathless and spent. Their bodies entwined, they were filled with a fierce warmth, a sense of fulfillment that hinted at the promise of new life blossoming between them.
[ PREGNANCY TIMER START – Iris Gaia ]
Gestation Period: 90 days (accelerated)
Faction Bonus: +15% Political Influence
From that moment on, the days settled into a familiar rhythm:
Morning was reserved for combat sweep missions, a hunt for loot and boosts in Affinity. "Let's hit the field, Fitran. We can't afford to hesitate," Iris urged, her determination lighting up her eyes as she adjusted her gear, ready to plunge into action.
Afternoon brought base upgrades and intimate moments with fellow heroines. Rinoa's presence was captivating, her voice smooth yet weighted down with unspoken worries. "You know you're pushing yourself too hard, right?" she said gently, her eyes softening as she stepped closer, concern evident in her gaze.
Night: Endless attempts at conception, rising jealousy, and countermeasures against sabotage. As shadows enveloped the surroundings, the atmosphere became thick with unspoken tension. "You know, Iris isn't the only one vying for your attention, Fitran," Rinoa challenged, her voice carrying a hint of vulnerability beneath the surface. "You're aware of that, right?"
Some evenings were spent with Rinoa, the magnetic connection between them palpable. On other nights, he found himself with Iris, her fierce determination for survival evident in her every action. Each encounter was a tapestry woven with the intricate complexities of their fates entangled.
Afternoon:
"We should prioritize upgrading the defenses first," Fitran stated, his eyes scanning the schematics sprawled across the table. Even though his voice held a steady cadence, Rinoa could detect the simmering tension just below. "We can't risk falling behind."
Oda leaned closer, his finger tapping thoughtfully against the map. "That's true, but we also have to build trust among the heroines. If we don't cultivate that bond…" His gaze shifted to Rinoa, observing the way she fidgeted under the weight of his scrutiny. "Jealousy can drive people to act recklessly."
"Like sabotaging our efforts," Zephyra interjected, her tone edged with steel. "I won't let that happen again. Not on my watch."
Rinoa crossed her arms, biting her lip in frustration. "Can't you understand? I'm doing my best! Every single day feels like a delicate balancing act in trying to keep everyone content while you're around. You might excel at instilling fear, Zephyra, but that's not going to win anyone's heart."
"Fear is an essential weapon, Rinoa," Zephyra retorted, her gaze unyielding. "You earn trust through strength, not just by appealing to emotions."
"Strength?" Freya interjected, her arms crossed tightly against her chest. "Or is it really just power play? Right now, unity is what we desperately need." She cast a quick glance at Oda, who affirmed her sentiment with a nod.
"Exactly," Fitran chimed in, his voice firm and resolute. "With the Black Faction closing in on us, fractures within our group could spell disaster. It's not just about fighting; it's about survival, and we can't do this alone."
Rinoa shifted, feeling the weight of their unspoken worries pressing down on her. "Then let's work together on this upgrade," she offered, her tone gentler now. "I'm ready to help with the planning." Though her voice softened, the determination that fueled it remained palpable.
"Fine," Zephyra conceded, her gaze piercing. "But keep your emotions in check. We can't afford to lose sight of our goal."
"I'll do what I can," Rinoa replied, a heavy sigh escaping her lips. The weight of their situation lingered, but she resolved to be the bridge that connected them.
Night:
"We really need to talk about our next steps tonight," Iris said, her voice steady but tinged with urgency as she glanced over the dimly lit room, searching each face for understanding. "If we want to avoid any further jealous outbursts, this is crucial. We can't afford any more sabotage."
"I completely agree," Rinoa responded, her tone low yet resolute. "I can't bear the thought of another night like last week's sabotage. Just look at how much it set us back."
"You really think the others are oblivious?" Iris challenged, furrowing her brow in frustration. "The tension escalates every time one of us edges too close to Fitran."
Freya squirmed in her seat, an uncomfortable realization creeping in. "I've sensed it as well. It feels like we're on the brink of collapse."
"What we need is a solid strategy," Oda interjected, his voice grave. "Jealousy could drag us all down, but if we can turn it to our advantage…"
"Leverage how? Are you suggesting we turn against each other?" Rinoa's voice trembled with frustration as she struggled to keep her emotions in check. "We can't afford to fracture! We're fighting this battle side by side."
"Then let's ensure everyone feels appreciated," Fitran declared, his gaze lingering on each of the women, as though weighing their worth. "We'll assign roles that play to our individual strengths and rotate responsibilities to keep things fair."
"That could work," Zephyra replied, her tone bold and unyielding. "But I refuse to stand by while anyone else monopolizes your time. We need to be honest about how we feel, or we're heading for disaster."
Iris nodded in agreement, her expression softening as she contemplated the weight of their situation. "Then let's make this a pact: mutual respect and open communication. No secrets between us."
"It's settled then," Rinoa said, a wave of relief washing over her as she breathed out the tension. "I won't allow jealousy to undermine our mission. Together, we'll confront the Black Faction, united and strong."