(Scene — B.A.M. Central Command, Midnight)
The city outside was calm, but inside the B.A.M. headquarters, General Soren Vask stood before a massive digital map, the glow of the screen reflecting off his scarred cheek. He was alone — as always when the King was out.
Reports flickered across the monitors: Minister Rhoan's ball incident — unidentified masked guest assaulting a noble.
Soren didn't need to guess twice.
He exhaled slowly, lips twitching into the faintest smirk.
Soren (muttering):
"Only one man in this empire hits like that."
He straightened, hands clasped behind his back, posture like steel. The other officers in the room watched him cautiously, sensing he was in one of those moods — the kind where orders could come sharp and fast.
Lieutenant Mara:
"Sir, should we issue an investigation order? The ministers are already requesting names."
Soren turned slowly, his cold eyes landing on her.
Soren:
"No. You'll do nothing. The King doesn't leave fingerprints… he leaves messages."
The room fell silent.
Lieutenant Mara (hesitant):
"So it was His Majesty?"
Soren (grim smile):
"Doesn't matter what we say. What matters is what they believe. And right now, every noble in that ballroom will be thinking — if a masked stranger could break a rich brat's nose that easily… what could the King himself do?"
He walked toward the window overlooking the capital — a sweeping expanse of glowing towers and silver-lit streets. His reflection stared back at him, cold and loyal.
Soren (quietly):
"He's reminding them that power doesn't wear a crown to prove itself. It breathes it."
The officers exchanged uneasy glances, unsure whether to respond or stay silent.
Soren (continuing):
"And the Queen… she was there too. I know it. Wherever he goes, she walks beside him. That unity terrifies people more than any weapon I command."
He turned sharply.
Soren (commanding tone):
"Send quiet surveillance to the Rhoan estate. No uniforms. No noise. I want whispers, not footprints. And if any minister dares question what happened—"
He paused, eyes narrowing.
Soren (low):
"Remind them who their King answers to. No one."
A tense silence. The officers nodded and dispersed, leaving Soren alone once more.
He looked down at the tactical display — the pulse of the empire, stable and obedient under Chris's rule. But Soren knew the truth: stability under the Blackwoods was never peace. It was control sharpened to perfection.
He allowed himself a small, private chuckle.
Soren (murmuring to himself):
"Your Majesty… you play your games with masks and mischief. But the whole board still moves for you. Always."
He tapped a command on the console, the lights dimming as the night watch engaged.
Soren (quietly):
"Long live the Blackwoods… and long live chaos under order."
The screen faded to black, showing one line of encrypted text flashing in green:
> "The King moved unseen tonight. The world trembled anyway."