Half a minute later, the office door opened. A woman dressed as a secretary, with sweet features and a practiced feline grace, stepped inside. Without waiting for Karl's command, she moved directly behind him and began kneading his shoulders.
Leaning back into the plush leather of his executive chair, Karl closed his eyes, savoring the luxury for a moment before suddenly asking, "Jelina, where is Miss Alice?"
"Miss Alice went out just a moment ago," Jelina replied, her rhythmic massage never faltering.
"Out? Did she say where?"
"It seemed..." Jelina's hands hesitated for a fraction of a second, a flicker of doubt crossing her eyes.
"Speak up!"
"Yes... Mr. Karl," Jelina stammered, startled by his sharp tone. "According to her schedule for today, she was going to meet with the Governor."
"Advant?" Hearing the Governor's name, Karl's expression turned venomous.
"Damn it! Damn her!" Karl roared internally. "The Karl Group is mine, Alice! Not yours! And certainly not that metal monster's!"
Who does he think he is? Just because he gave me some alien tech and solved a few minor problems? No one takes what's mine! Karl's thoughts were a chaotic swirl of resentment. The woman named Alice was supposed to be a temporary "fixer," yet she had remained as Vice President, treating him—the CEO—like a ghost.
"I can't wait any longer," Karl decided, a hard glint appearing in his eyes. He hadn't yet revealed Skygnaw's true identity to the CIA. He was playing both sides, demanding full immunity and physical protection before he handed over the "Alien King." He considered himself an equal negotiator with the Agency.
Lost in his plotting, Karl didn't notice the look of intense struggle on Jelina's face as she watched the back of his head.
Miami. A high-end restaurant.
Sean, Aria, and the other three members of the original group sat around a table. They laughed and chatted, but all carefully avoided the topic of Karl.
A year ago, the six of them had shared a terrifying encounter with an alien machine. But unlike movie protagonists, five of them had returned to mundane lives. Only Karl had seemingly unlocked some hidden destiny, achieving a status in one year that they couldn't reach in a lifetime.
Karl hadn't attended today's reunion. He carried a heavy, unspoken guilt—a feeling that he had betrayed the group by monopolizing the alien partnership for himself.
As they ate, a news bulletin flashed on the restaurant's TV.
[URGENT BROADCAST: SUN POST NEWS!]
The female reporter on screen looked hyper-stimulated, her eyes wide.
[BREAKING NEWS! Steven Karl, CEO of the Karl Group, suffered a tragic fall down the stairs of his mansion early this morning...]
She stepped aside to show a luxury private hospital in the background.
[...At 12:30 PM, exactly eight minutes ago, hospital officials formally declared that resuscitation efforts have failed.]
Clatter—
A glass shattered on the restaurant floor. Sean and the others sat frozen, staring at the screen in disbelief. The "Tech Genius" of Miami was gone.
Karl's life had been a whirlwind of cameras and bodyguards, but his funeral was remarkably sparse. Aside from his immediate family, only Sean's group came to pay their respects.
Not far from the grave, a long, black luxury sedan sat idling. Through the tinted glass, Alice watched the proceedings with a face of porcelain indifference.
No one defies the Master's will. Since Karl had become a "variable" that disappointed the Master, he simply ceased to be a necessity.
The media went into a frenzy. Conspiracy or Accident? The Fall of a 22-Year-Old Titan! For a moment, the business world looked like a shark tank, with rivals preparing to tear the Karl Group apart.
But then Alice stepped forward. Armed with a perfectly forged "Succession and Trust Agreement" signed by Karl "prior to his death," she officially assumed the role of President. In just three months, she had woven a web tighter than Karl had managed in a year. Within three days, the negative press vanished. The public's gaze was moved to the next shiny object.
Under Alice's hand, the Karl Group—now the Aura Corporation—dropped its solo-player act. She bound major human political syndicates to the company's success through shared stakes. Within a month, Aura Corp. had monopolized the entire US mobile market. No one suspected Alice; they simply assumed Karl's "Dirt Truck" tactics had finally invited a fatal retaliation.
A Primeval Forest.
On a continent where the sun dictated the laws of survival, Skygnaw stood before a dense wall of ancient jungle. He looked at Alice, who was standing beside Black Panther.
In the few months since he'd seen her, she had fully adopted the aura of a ruthless "Power CEO"—if one ignored the absolute submissiveness she showed when facing him.
Using the group's vast resources, she had hired world-class historians to scan ancient texts for "Iron Giants." They had narrowed the search to five locations. This forest was the most promising.
"This is the place, Master," Alice reported. "Records indicate a primitive tribe forty-eight kilometers deep into this jungle. They have worshipped a 'Great Metal Sword' for over a thousand years. Their last recorded 'answered prayer' was seventy-four years ago."
"Seventy-four years ago?" Skygnaw tilted his head. "The same year Megatron crashed in the Arctic. Interesting coincidence."
"My scouts confirmed the tribe's existence," Alice continued. "But I ordered them not to enter the sacrificial cave to avoid disturbing the site before your arrival."
"Well done, Alice," Skygnaw said, genuinely impressed. He and the Horsemen had spent two months finding nothing; Alice had found five leads in one. "The power of human organization... I made the right move putting you in charge."
He looked at the forest, then at his loyal drones. "Alice, remain with Aura Corp. Continue the resource funnel. Black Panther will stay with you as your personal guardian."
Black Panther looked slightly reluctant to leave his Master, but he obeyed. Alice bowed low. "Thank you, Master."
Skygnaw turned back to the jungle. He signaled Carnage, Famine, Pestilence, and Catastrophe. They shifted into their flight modes and roared into the canopy.
If a sacrifice was "answered" only seventy-odd years ago, it meant the Spark inside that cave wasn't just ash. It was waiting.
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