In the dimly lit office, shadows flickered across the walls, casting an eerie ambiance over the space filled with portraits of a man with stark alabaster skin, standing alongside politicians, mayors, and CEOs. The man himself sat at his desk, his expression 2 into an angry scowl as he watched the news unfold on his laptop screen.
Tall and commanding attention with his confident demeanor, the CEO exuded an unmistakable air of authority and intelligence. His sharp features were accentuated by a pair of sleek glasses that framed his piercing blue eyes, each glance penetrating and perceptive, revealing a mind constantly at work behind the façade of controlled composure.
Jet-black hair, meticulously styled and flawlessly groomed, framed his face with a touch of sophistication, adding depth to his commanding presence. A strong jawline hinted at an unwavering determination and resilience, while his chiseled features spoke volumes of discipline and focus, honed through years of navigating the cutthroat world of corporate leadership.
On the screen, a young reporter stood amidst a bustling street, her voice clear and resolute. "Breaking news from District C," she began, "where a new hero has emerged to save the day. His name is Vajra."
The reporter continued, her voice tinged with a mixture of curiosity and excitement. "Apparently, he's not part of the superhero society, and he says he has no plans on joining. This kind of independence hasn't been seen since the Great Civil War between superheroes the Red Bloods, who claimed they fought for humankind."
The camera shifted to images of the chaos Vajra had thwarted. The scene was terrifying buildings lay in ruins, ambulances rushed through the streets, and people were frantically picking up the dead and injured.
The camera then returned to the reporter.
The reporter's voice carried a tone of urgency as she recounted the harrowing events. "There was a giant monster, a lady named Nure-onna," she began, her words punctuated by a sense of disbelief. "But the hero Vajra intervened, bravely confronting the serpent and saving countless lives in the process."
Her description painted a surreal picture of the scene, where reality seemed to blur with the fantastical. "The whole scene was strange," she continued, her voice tinged with uncertainty. "Souls were flying around, some of them still lingering in the air. It's as if the boundaries between worlds had been breached."
A shiver ran down the reporter's spine as she considered the implications. "How we can see them must be because of the yokai's," she concluded, her voice trembling slightly.
"In a stunning turn of events, officers, led by Deputy Stone and Sheriff Fox, have uncovered documents and irrefutable evidence linking Mayor John John and other high-ranking leaders of our nation, the Grid, to malevolent entities, including the notorious yokai."
The man in the dark office clenched his fists, his eyes burning with fury as the reporter continued. "This shocking revelation suggests a deep-seated conspiracy within our government. Because we all know that yokai and demon-like creatures are confined to the Mutation Realm. So how did they get here?"
The reporter's expression grew graver. "With this revelation, it seems that Mayor John John has been released from his duties as mayor. This unprecedented event has led to the appointment of the second runner-up as the new mayor, making history as the first human to lead a city in our district. The implications of this shift are profound, raising concerns for the safety and security of our citizens."
The camera shifted to the bustling city hall, capturing scenes of both confusion and determination. The tension was palpable, even in the Congress rooms, where the blue-skinned Galaktikos were seen panicking and debating fervently over the day's events.
The broadcast returned to the reporter, her expression a mixture of urgency and hope. "In times like these, the call for unity and vigilance has never been stronger. Joining us now is someone who embodies that spirit the future mayor and a man with an extraordinary story." She extended the microphone to a rugged man with hands worn from years of labor, his face etched with the wisdom of a fisherman's life.
He stepped forward, taking a steadying breath. "Today, I saw a hero a young man who risked his life without hesitation. I watched him dive into danger to save us, nearly losing his life in the process. And when he began to falter, I knew I couldn't just stand by. I dove from my boat to pull him to safety. That moment changed me. It reminded me that true leadership is about risking everything for those you care for."
The fisherman glanced at the crowd, his voice gaining strength. "For years, I've fought to make a difference in this city. I've run for mayor over and over, always falling short. But today, seeing Vajra fight for us gave me hope. It showed me we can bring about real change. Now, with Mayor John John removed, I've finally been given the chance to lead. And not just that as the new mayor, I'm also eligible to run for president. I'd be the first human to take that step. I'm asking you if you want change, if you believe we can be better, then vote for me."
The crowd, recognizing him as the man who had pulled Adamus from the brink of death, began to murmur in agreement. One voice rose above the rest: "If you're running for president, you've got my vote!"
A great citizen from the crowd grabbed the mic, their voice filled with passion. "If everything you guys are saying is true, we definitely need new leadership. Forget those blue-skinned blue blood Galaktikos. That kid, Vajra, is the real hero."
The crowd erupted in applause and cheers, a wave of support and hope washing over them. The reporter nodded, a determined look in her eyes. "This is a pivotal moment for our city. Stay tuned for more updates as we continue to follow this story. This is Channel Seven News, reporting live from District C."
As the broadcast ended, the man in the dark office seethed with rage, knowing that the tides were turning against him.
The man slammed his laptop shut, frustration boiling over. He stood up, donning his elegant suit with purpose and precision. Each movement was swift, his hands expertly fastening buttons and adjusting his tie. As he dressed, his phone buzzed incessantly, a cacophony of angry voices clamoring for his attention.
"My stocks are plummeting because of that so-called superhero, Vajra!" one furious caller shouted into the receiver.
"There's a reason capes should never interfere with business!" another voice rang out, thick with indignation.
"He's telling kids to drink water instead of soda my entire marketing campaign is collapsing!" a corporate executive protested.
"And he rebuilt the city bridge my company was contracted to repair in a matter of days," a contractor fumed. "Do you understand what that does to my profits?"
The phone barely left his hand before it rang again. This time, the voice was calm, but steeped in political urgency.
"He's ruining my vote," a senator hissed. "The people are starting to look at him like some savior and they're losing trust in us. I can't afford that kind of shadow cast over the next election."
Another call cut in almost immediately. This time it wasn't a CEO or politician it was one of the crime bosses on his payroll.
"My crews are useless with him in the streets. Every job, every score, he's there. My own men entire gangs stopped by him multiple times. If this keeps up, I can't keep paying tribute."
The CEO juggled the phone between his shoulder and ear, his jaw tightening with every demand. Yet his voice remained steady, authoritative, almost reassuring.
"I will fix it," he assured them all, his words clipped and confident, hanging up only for the phone to ring again.
As he shrugged into his jacket and smoothed down his lapels, his resolve hardened. Each call was met with the same calm, confident promise: "I will fix it." Finally, fully dressed and radiating purpose, a knock on the door interrupted him.
He opened it to find his son, Dylan, standing there, eyes wide with excitement.
"Hey Dad, some crazy stuff happened with me and my friend Adamus. I really want to talk to you about it. You're really good at doing research. We found this really cool Crystal in our museum during our school field trip," Dylan said eagerly, his voice bubbling with enthusiasm.
His father sighed impatiently, a storm of frustration brewing beneath his composed exterior. "Son, I do not have time for any of your foolishness," he snapped, his tone icy. "I have a meeting I need to get to right now."
Dylan's face fell, but he pressed on, determined to be heard. "Dad, ever since you became president of Pluto Industries, you never have time for us. I know you're an S-rank citizen, a full-blooded blue-blood Galaktikos. You have blue blood, and Mom and I don't. That's why we're A-rank citizens. Is that why you don't want to talk to us? You never have time for us."
His voice wavered, and tears began to well up in his eyes. "I get it. I wasn't born with blue blood like you, so I'm less. But I try every day, Dad. I have perfect grades. I want to be just like you." He paused, his voice breaking with emotion. "I'm sorry, Dad. I'm sorry I was born a human and not a Galaktikos."
Boris looked at his son with a mix of frustration and condescension. "Of course, I love you," he said, his voice dripping with irritation. "Every day, I risk my standing among my peers by marrying a lower-level citizen a human. I helped elevate your mother. She should be grateful a Galaktikos decided to marry her. You should thank me for that."
"I've tried my best, Dylan. That's why I'm running for president to change the laws, to allow humans, but only those who deserve it and work hard enough, to achieve S-rank citizenship and live in S-ranked districts. Naturally, this includes my family. Everything I'm doing is for you, even if you don't understand it now."
Boris's tone softened slightly, but his words carried the weight of his ambition and the pressure he felt to conform to the expectations of his elite status.
"That's not true," Dylan shot back, his voice quivering. "I saw you on the news the other day. The reporter asked about your donors and the people in the S-ranked district, and how they won't vote for you if you change the laws to allow humans there. And you responded by saying you would never, ever allow humans."
Boris's face twisted with anger. "Maybe you should learn to understand hierarchy," he snarled. "You don't talk back to your father." With that, he smacked Dylan across the face.
The boy staggered, his cheek reddening with the sting. Boris bent down, grabbing Dylan's arm tightly, forcing eye contact. "Since you want to get smart with me, why did you skip school a couple of days ago?"
Dylan's eyes widened in fear. "I fell sick that day," he lied, but Boris saw right through him.
"You're lying," Boris snapped. "I saw on the cameras that you took the jet the flying car with your little friend. That low-rank citizen. What is he? A C-rank citizen? Why are you hanging out with him? I'm tired of your mom's little experiment, letting you live in a C-ranked district to gain so-called 'character.' Starting next week, you're going back to the A-rank district. No more of these childish games."
Dylan's face crumpled, the weight of his father's words crushing his spirit. Boris pushed him towards his room with a final, dismissive gesture. "Go to your room, now," he commanded, his tone brooking no argument.
Dylan, tears streaming down his face, turned and fled, the door slamming shut behind him.
Boris left his house, his confident stride bringing him to the front where a gleaming golden jet awaited him. As he approached, he was met by a team of security guards, most of them with blue skin Galaktikos, though not all. Each guard wore an earpiece, a sign of their readiness and vigilance.
With a nod to the guards, Boris continued towards the jet, his presence commanding respect and authority. This was no ordinary aircraft; it was the pinnacle of technological advancement, the fastest jet in the entire world, capable of moving Immeasurable speeds. The Jet said Pluto Industries.
Boarding the jet with practiced ease, Boris settled into his seat, the sleek golden craft humming to life around him as it prepared for takeoff. As the engines roared to life, Boris felt a surge of anticipation coursing through him.
Within moments, the jet soared into the sky, accelerating to its incredible speed, the world below becoming a blur. Boris's mind raced almost as fast as the jet, filled with thoughts of the meeting ahead and the complications at home. As the jet cruised smoothly, Boris was busy typing on his computer, his mind preoccupied with the new threat this hero Vajra. Who is this kid? he wondered, his fingers flying over the keys as he searched for any information he could find.
Suddenly, one of the attendants approached him with a steaming cup of coffee. "Here's your coffee, sir," she said, her voice trembling slightly.
Boris, distracted, reached out to grab the cup but missed, causing the hot liquid to spill all over his suit. He sprang up, roaring with anger. "You imbecile! You've ruined my suit!"
The woman recoiled, stammering, "I'm so sorry, sir."
Boris's eyes narrowed as he grabbed her wrist, noticing the small 'C' branded on her wrist. "A C-ranked citizen," he spat, his voice dripping with contempt. "Get this incompetent human out of here!"
He turned to his security team, his face red with rage. "I'd rather have robots bring me coffee from now on," he barked. The guards quickly escorted the trembling woman out of the cabin.
Still fuming, Boris wiped the coffee off his suit as best as he could and returned to his computer. He muttered under his breath, "Incompetent fools. Can't even handle a simple task." As he continued typing, his focus returned to the problem at hand finding a way to deal with this new hero, Vajra.
In what felt like an instant, the jet began its descent into District S. Below him, a giant palace made entirely of gold shimmered in the sunlight, an opulent display of wealth and power. The jet touched down smoothly on the landing pad, and Boris disembarked, his expression shifting to one of determination and authority as he approached the grand entrance of the palace.
The golden walls gleamed, reflecting his image back at him as he walked towards the massive doors, ready to face the high-stakes meeting that awaited within.
As Boris walked, his managing team approached, listing off his packed schedule: meetings with senators, mayors, and CEOs of other companies. He brushed it off like it was an everyday routine and kept walking.
As Boris's security team opened the massive doors for him, he stepped into a scene of bustling activity. Before him stretched a vast chamber filled with hundreds of thousands of Galaktikos, me were adorned in opulent gold and jewelry, exuding an air of regal splendor. Others were dressed in formal suits, reminiscent of CEOs and high-ranking officials. The room buzzed with conversation, each group eager for the impending meeting to commence.
The chamber itself was massive, with towering cubbies arranged throughout the space. Each cubby housed a group of people, their voices blending into a cacophony of anticipation. Boris surveyed the scene before him, the sheer scale of the gathering both impressive and daunting. It was clear that this was no ordinary meeting; it was a gathering of power and influence on a grand scale.
In the heart of the vast chamber, amidst the sea of bustling figures and towering cubbies, stood a magnificent throne, fit for a king. And upon that throne sat the undisputed ruler of the assembly, a figure of immense stature and presence. His voice boomed across the chamber, cutting through the noise like a clap of thunder, as he bellowed out to Boris, commanding his attention.
"Ah, Boris! We've been waiting for you to start the meeting," the king announced, his authoritative tone reverberating through the hall. The king's imposing presence was matched only by the grandeur of the throne he occupied, adorned with intricate designs and precious gems, signifying his absolute power and control.
To the right of the king stood the current president, a man with a steely gaze and an air of calculated calm. His poised demeanor suggested a leader accustomed to navigating the complexities of governance and power. To the left, the former president observed with a watchful eye, his experience and wisdom evident in the furrowed lines of his face.
Beside the throne, a woman of striking intelligence and resolve held her place with quiet authority. She was the vice president, her sharp eyes scanning the room, ensuring every detail was noted. Her presence added a layer of meticulous oversight to the assembly, a counterbalance to the raw power emanating from the king.
Boris, undaunted by the weight of the king's gaze, strode confidently towards the imposing figure. With each step, he waved to the crowd, acknowledging their presence and support. The murmurs of the assembly hushed, anticipation hanging thick in the air. His presence commanded attention, and the crowd's eyes followed his every move.
As he approached the front of the chamber, Boris's path took him first to the president, a man with a steely gaze and an air of calculated calm. He extended his hand, and they shook firmly, a silent exchange of mutual respect and understanding. Next, Boris turned to the vice president, her sharp eyes and composed demeanor reflecting her authority. He shook her hand with the same resolute confidence.
Finally, Boris reached the king. The room seemed to hold its breath as their hands met in a powerful handshake, a symbolic gesture of unity and shared purpose. With the formalities complete, Boris took his place among the leadership, settling into one of the four prominent chairs at the front of the assembly.
As he sat down, the vast chamber quieted, all eyes fixed on the four leaders. Below them, the crowd watched intently, their faith and expectations palpable. Boris felt the weight of responsibility settling upon his shoulders, but he remained undaunted, ready to face the challenges ahead with unwavering determination.
As Boris and the rest of the leaders settled into their seats, the chamber's lights dimmed, casting an air of anticipation over the assembly. A spotlight illuminated a striking figure with blue skin who appeared at the center stage. She spoke with a commanding presence, her voice resonating through the vast hall.
"Ladies and gentlemen, esteemed members of our great nation, welcome to this pivotal assembly," she began, her tone both authoritative and inviting. "Tonight, we are graced by the presence of some of the most influential figures in our society. This is a private meeting no cameras, no TVs. Please turn all cell phones off."
The room fell silent as everyone complied, understanding the gravity of the gathering. The atmosphere grew tense with anticipation, each individual keenly aware of the significance of the discussions that were about to take place.
"First, we have Boris, the illustrious President of Pluto Industries," she continued, gesturing towards him. "He is not only the wealthiest man in the world but also the mastermind behind our nation's advanced robotics and cutting-edge technology. His contributions have propelled our country to unparalleled heights of innovation and prosperity."
Turning her attention to the next figure, she introduced, "We are also honored to be joined by our Vice President and our current President, Elise. Their steadfast leadership has guided us through challenging times, and we eagerly anticipate the forthcoming election, where we hope Boris will emerge victorious," she added with a light-hearted laugh, echoed by the audience's appreciative chuckles.
"And, of course, at the helm of our great nation stands our revered King," she announced with a flourish. "Ruling with wisdom and strength, he embodies the pinnacle of our constitutional monarchy, seamlessly blended with a republican executive. Under his rule, our nation, The Grid, has flourished with stability and justice."
The lady paused, allowing her words to sink in, as the spotlight shifted to each of the distinguished guests in turn. "Let us now commence this crucial meeting, united in our purpose and resolute in our ambitions. Together, we shall forge the path to a future of unparalleled greatness."
With that, the assembly erupted in applause, the atmosphere charged with a sense of unity and determination.
Boris's voice thundered through the chamber, instantly silencing the sea of murmurs. Seizing the microphone with firm resolve, he began, his words sharp and deliberate:
"Fellow leaders, esteemed citizens of The Grid today we stand at a crossroads unlike any in our history. For the first time, a human contender has risen as a serious challenger for leadership."
He leaned forward, his gaze piercing.
"We cannot allow this."
The chamber stirred. Boris raised his hand for silence, his tone cutting through the tension.
"Yes, I know the people admire him. They cling to him because he is human. But leadership cannot be reduced to novelty or sympathy. Leadership must remain in the hands of those who understand the greatness of our nation our own people. He will be exposed, his reputation dragged through the mud. He does not have the wealth, the reach, or the vision that I command. And who better to guide us than someone who has already built an empire a googolplex-dollar industry that rivals the power of gods and superheroes themselves?"
From the crowd, a voice called out: "But his support is massive! The people no longer trust us Galaktikos. It's been this way for years and now it's worse!"
Boris did not falter. He stood tall, his expression cold yet confident.
"That is true. But I hold a position no one else can claim. I have not hidden myself from humanity I embraced it. I married a human woman. I have a human son. I live with them. I understand them. More importantly they understand me. They see me as one of their own, and because of that, they can trust me more than any other Galaktikos. My unique heritage allows me to bridge the divide, to stand with humans while never compromising the sovereignty of our people."
He paused, letting the words sink in, his presence filling the vast chamber. Then, with renewed vigor, he pressed on.
"I know there are others among you who dream of leadership. Candidates you may favor. But look within yourselves you know I am the only one capable of holding this nation together. The only one who can rise above the chaos of division. I do not ask for blind loyalty. I ask for recognition of reality. I am the best option."
His voice swelled, heavy with command and conviction.
"But make no mistake I cannot secure this future alone. I need your support. Your resources. Your unwavering allegiance. Together, we will protect our legacy, safeguard our future, and ensure this nation not only survives but thrives under strong, capable leadership."
Raising his hands high, his voice roared with fervor.
"Trust in me, and we will rise above the challenges that threaten us. Stand with me, and together, we will secure a destiny where our people remain supreme united, unshakable, unstoppable. The time is now. Victory will be ours!"
One of the CEOs erupted with a sharp, piercing accusation that reverberated through the chamber, slicing through the tense atmosphere. "Why should we offer our support and resources to you?" The question hung in the air, heavy with skepticism and veiled accusation. "You assured us that the bases housing the spirits were secure, protected by your robots. How can I trust your company, Pluto? How can I trust you as president? The truth has surfaced in District C. The citizens now know that we've been importing yokai from the Mutation Realm, collaborating to plunder the souls of our own people, especially the humans."
The words lingered, casting a shadow over the assembly, as the implications of the accusation settled in. The chamber fell silent, the weight of the revelation pressing down on everyone present, leaving an uncomfortable stillness in its wake.
Boris's heart raced as he processed the heated words. Before he could respond, the speaker added fuel to the fire, each word weighted with urgency and concern. "And let's not forget the turmoil in District F. This new threat, Jason Knight, has unleashed a revolution that threatens our very stability. He's decimated your robot forces and garnered the support of half the district's population. District F houses the most formidable superpowered individuals, and if he sways them against us, we'll be facing a formidable adversary indeed."
The speaker's words hung heavily in the air, amplifying the tension in the chamber. Boris felt the pressure mounting, knowing that the challenges ahead were growing more complex and perilous.
Boris responded with a calculated assurance, his words measured and deliberate. "Indeed, the incident in District C with the Nure-onna and Vajra's intervention has caused some turbulence. However, it's imperative to recognize that it was merely one of many subterranean installations. Rest assured, our teams of automated units are swiftly remedying the situation, ensuring the eradication of any traceable evidence. By dawn, the clandestine base will be but a memory, leaving no tangible remnants of yokai presence."
Turning his attention to the broader concerns surrounding Vajra and the disclosure of yokai, Boris projected an air of sagacity and confidence. "The emergence of Vajra as a new force in District C has undoubtedly prompted apprehension, compounded by the revelation of yokai's existence. However, let me reassure you that we have a comprehensive strategy in place. The dissemination of information by the implicated news station will be addressed swiftly and decisively.
"As for Vajra, I have orchestrated a methodical response to neutralize his impact. I have ordered Omnimorph and the Ice Division of the Water Realm Samurai to deal with him. Upon the conclusion of our operation, the collective consciousness will be devoid of any recollection of yokai collaboration. Normalcy will be restored with precision and efficiency.
"Moreover, we must consider the reality of our citizens' lives," Boris continued, his tone unwavering and authoritative. "They are deeply engaged in their daily routines working, caring for their families, enjoying entertainment, and fixating on celebrities and superheroes. Their attention spans are limited, and distractions are plentiful.
"Moreover, with our meticulously engineered citizen and district score system, we perpetually incite internecine strife, fostering division along the lines of race and, most critically, class. The populace remains incessantly preoccupied with the Sisyphean task of ascending to a higher district. Generations upon generations of humanity, numbering in the Decillion, commence their existence as F-ranked citizens in F-ranked districts, ensnared in a relentless struggle for mere survival. The elusive aspiration to reach the exalted S district remains a cruel mirage, an unattainable pinnacle by our deliberate design. This system ensures their aspirations are eternally thwarted. I assure you, this incident will swiftly be consigned to oblivion, drowned in the cacophony of their quotidian tribulations."
Boris's words were delivered with a calm assurance, embodying the calculated pragmatism of a seasoned CEO.
Boris's voice resonated with unwavering confidence, his words cutting through the tumultuous atmosphere of the chamber like a blade. "Fear not," he declared, his tone authoritative, commanding attention from the assembled crowd. "Our response to the situation in District F is swift and decisive. Multiple superhero units have been dispatched as we speak. Jason Knight is a young man he poses no real threat to me," he said, starting to laugh. "These people in the lower districts don't even have voting power. It's basically zero times zero. It equals zero."
The chamber echoed with a few uneasy chuckles as Boris's laughter died down. He continued, his tone now laced with a hint of menace, "And should the need arise, we will call upon the formidable might of the Sentinel, our cutting-edge creation from Pluto Industries."
His words were met with a mixture of fear and admiration. The Sentinel was renowned for its unparalleled strength and advanced technology, a symbol of Pluto Industries' dominance and ingenuity.
Boris's gaze swept across the room, his eyes locking with each of the key stakeholders. "Rest assured, we have anticipated every potential challenge. The superhero units are equipped with the latest advancements in combat technology, and our surveillance systems provide real-time intelligence. Jason Knight and his followers will be neutralized swiftly and effectively."
Pausing for effect, Boris allowed a sly smirk to play upon his lips, hinting at a deeper strategy at play. "Moreover, let us not forget the compromised state of many superpowered individuals within District F. They have been systematically weakened, their powers dulled by the insidious influence of narcotics. The poisoned water supply has sapped their strength, rendering them ineffectual. Additionally, D-rank and F-rank citizens alike find themselves ensnared in this web of manipulation. Their cities teem with crime, a deliberate consequence of our inaction"We allow the gangsters, the strippers, the hookers to thrive in those districts, ensuring that chaos reigns supreme.
We flood the streets with drugs, making addiction the cornerstone of control.
We let gun runners and smugglers operate freely, so violence becomes the daily language of survival.
We make sure there are more liquor stores than hospitals, more casinos than schools, more pawn shops than libraries.
We don't fix earthquakes, we don't rebuild after fires, we leave the rubble as monuments to despair.
We cut funding for education but subsidize prisons, ensuring an endless cycle of broken lives.
We drown neighborhoods in payday lenders and debt traps, while clean water and food remain luxuries.
We let corrupt cops patrol the streets, turning protection into extortion.
We allow disease to spread unchecked, closing clinics but opening more bars and brothels.
We ensure that neon and noise hide the poverty, so outsiders see a carnival, not a graveyard."
His words carried a chilling weight, revealing the extent of his machinations. "Indeed, victory is within our grasp. These insignificant beings in the D and F-ranked districts pose no threat; they are but mere pawns in our grand design, devoid of any meaningful influence or agency."
Boris's tone was cold and calculating, his confidence unwavering as he laid bare the truth of his control over the city's underbelly. In his mind, every aspect of society was a piece on his chessboard, and he moved them with precision towards his ultimate goal of domination.
Boris paused, allowing the weight of his words to settle upon the eager ears of his audience before resuming with a fervor that ignited a palpable sense of anticipation. "My esteemed blue-blooded brethren, mark my words this is our time. From the moment we set foot upon this vast planet, we have ascended above its inhabitants, shaping this nation into the epitome of greatness. Yes, we faced adversities in the past, notably during the initial conflict against the Sun King. But this year heralds a new era of triumph."
A ripple of excitement surged through the crowd, their collective spirits lifted by Boris's resolute proclamation. "Moreover," he continued, his voice resonating with unwavering conviction, "we have secured alliances with the most influential leaders, monarchs, and deities of the air realm, bolstering our cause with their unwavering support. With the allegiance of the samurai warriors and the might of our advanced technologies, we wield an indomitable force. Together, we shall methodically extend our dominion across every realm until we stand unchallenged, ready to depose the weakened Sun King and claim dominion over this entire planet, along with the souls of its populace. Not a single one shall escape our grasp."
As Boris concluded his speech, he raised his arm in a salute, his gesture imbued with a ferocious intensity that ignited the crowd. "All hail, ARE great nation, the Grid!" he thundered, his voice commanding and authoritative. In unison, the assembled masses rose to their feet, their movements synchronized as they mirrored Boris's salute with fervor and determination.
Boris's mind raced with the memories of his past, the struggles and hardships he had endured. From the ridicule he faced as a young boy in an S-ranked district, to the relentless pursuit of success that had propelled him to the pinnacle of power" This is what I always wanted my whole life," he thought to himself, a triumphant smile playing upon his lips. "Ever since I was a young boy, living in an S-ranked district, all the Galaktikos kids with blue skin would make fun of me because I didn't have blue skin, even though I'm full-blooded Galaktikos with blue blood. But now look at me, the president of the strongest company and soon to be president of this nation. Hard work really pays off. My peers finally respect me."
"I can't wait to bring my family with me when I become president," he continued his internal monologue, his thoughts fueled by a fierce determination. "I can guarantee they can finally live with me in an S-ranked district. But the rest of the humans? Never. The worthless."
The thunderous applause of the crowd drowned out the doubts that had once plagued his mind. The cheers fed his ego, fueling his ambition as he locked eyes with the king, their applause a symphony of triumph and conquest. In this moment, Boris felt unstoppable, his vision of dominion and glory within reach. And as he gazed upon the faces of his loyal followers, he knew that his ascent to power was inevitable, a testament to the power of determination and ambition.