The forge was no longer a wreck; it was a command center. In the twenty-four hours since the attack, we had cleaned, repaired, and repurposed the space. The Synapse server rack hummed at its heart, but now its holographic projectors displayed not engineering schematics, but the intricate corporate structure of Frost International.
Emma stood before the glowing web of data, a cup of coffee in hand, a general surveying her battlefield. Domino lounged on a stack of reinforced crates, idly flipping a custom-made poker chip through her fingers. I stood by the main console, the Digital Ghost ready to be unleashed. This was the first official war council of Aura Innovations.
"The first rule of a hostile takeover," Emma began, her voice crisp and cold as ice, "is that you never announce it. We are not an army marching on his gates. We are a plague, a rot that will consume his empire from the inside out before he even knows he's sick."
She pointed a perfectly manicured finger at the central icon labeled 'Frost International'. "He's a titan. An old-world monster built on a foundation of fossil fuels, unethical manufacturing, and brutal market suppression. We are a gnat by comparison. We can't buy him out. We can't out-muscle him in the open market. So, we devalue him. We bleed him until he's weak enough for a kill shot."
Her strategy was a three-pronged attack, as elegant as it was vicious.
"First: Information," she said, looking at me. "I know where most of the bodies are buried, Alex. I helped him dig some of the graves. But I need proof. I need documents, emails, offshore account numbers. I need the kind of irrefutable dirt that will make his shareholders and board members panic. That's your department. I want you to be a ghost in his machine. Find every dirty secret, every illegal contract, every ounce of hypocrisy."
"Consider it done," I said. My fingers were already itching to get to work.
"Second: Sabotage," she continued, her gaze shifting to Domino. "While Alex provides the ammunition, you will be our chaos agent. You'll be the 'unfortunate accident', the 'bad luck' that suddenly starts plaguing Frost International's operations."
Domino stopped flipping her chip, a slow, predatory grin spreading across her face. "You want me to make people have a bad day?"
"I want you to make Winston Frost have the worst year of his life," Emma corrected. "A key shipment of rare earth metals is 'accidentally' rerouted to the wrong continent. A crucial server for his R&D department suffers a 'freak' power surge the day before a major product announcement. His top competitor 'coincidentally' lands a contract he was moments away from signing. Your job is to be the sand in his gears, the constant, inexplicable friction that brings his well-oiled machine grinding to a halt."
"I can do that," Domino said, her eyes sparkling with delight. "This is way more fun than just security."
"Finally: Acquisition," Emma said, her expression hardening. "A company is its people. While we bleed him financially and cripple him logistically, I will be poaching his key talent. I know who the brilliant but underappreciated scientists are, who the ambitious but stifled executives are. I will offer them a home at Aura Innovations. We will steal his future, one employee at a time."
It was a masterful, ruthless plan. A corporate death by a thousand cuts.
"I'll start now," I said, turning to the console. "Raphael, begin a deep-level infiltration of all Frost International servers. Prioritize Winston Frost's personal files."
Within minutes, Raphael had peeled back the first layer of Winston's digital life. And we struck gold almost immediately.
"Well, well," I murmured, an ugly file appearing on the main screen. "What have we here?"
It was a series of encrypted payments and geological surveys for a subsidiary company that was officially dedicated to "agricultural development" in South America. But the survey data wasn't for farming. It was for illegal strip-mining in a protected rainforest, complete with falsified environmental impact reports.
Emma looked at the proof, a cold, satisfied smile on her face. "He just gave a speech last month at a gala for the World Wildlife Fund. The hypocritical monster."
"This is the kind of thing that could get a few board members nervous," I said.
"Nervous is a start," Emma replied, her eyes gleaming in the holographic light. "By the time I'm done, they'll be stampeding for the exits."
I looked at the two women beside me. The brilliant, vengeful Queen. The cheerful, chaotic Wild Card. And I, the King with impossible power, was the ghost that would fuel their war.
The hunt for Winston Frost had officially begun.