The air in Silicon Valley was always crisp, always controlled. Climate, color, landscaped—all manufactured to maintain the illusion of progress. Jean walked out of the building like all of it is gonna be wiped out soon.
She was elegant, perfect—impeccably tailored suit in slate grey. Behind her, her security detail followed silently, a four-man retinue of tailored suit and armor.a. They had once been her comfort.
Now, they were liabilities. A potential mole from other collective members to surveil and observe her family's every move.
The meetings were surgical. One after another, she signed away control of vast data archives, semiconductor foundries, and AI research firms. Across each long boardroom table sat agents of the Collective—suits that didn't sweat, eyes that didn't blink. They just stared.
No ceremony. No farewell.
Just quiet transaction and handover to all of controlled assets that once represented the Wallenbern family.
