I go to the far wall, where a dimly glowing city map is covered in layers of tactical overlays. Mondrovia hums mindlessly above me, its citizens thinking that markets, elections, and accidents govern their lives.
But beneath the surface of this vibrant city lies a complex web of manipulation in which the Council controls every aspect of day-to-day existence. In this simmering pot of political unrest and suppressed truths, every choice I make is on the verge of catastrophe.
Under the guise of democracy, the city appears to be flourishing, but it is
Illusions are easier to maintain when everyone agrees to believe them.
"The Council is panicking," one of my lieutenants reports through the channel, his voice is tight hearing the echo of anxiety. "Adrian's survival has destabilized the narrative."
"Good," I reply calmly. "Let them panic."
"And Elena?"
I pause.
"She will come to me," I say. "Not willingly, not knowingly, but she will."
"How?"
