The morning light filtered through the apartment windows, casting long shadows across the hardwood floor as I sat in what had become my makeshift office—a corner of the living room with a simple desk and chair. The quiet breakfast we’d shared was over, the girls having dispersed to their various activities. Camille was probably still in bed, claiming her job title was exhausting her though we all knew she just enjoyed being lazy. Alexis had retreated to her actual office to handle some administrative work, and Evelyn had vanished with one of her books, seeking solitude. Though I believe she’s been preparing for the meeting as well.
Sienna, on the other hand, had lingered the longest, cleaning dishes with methodical precision, but even she had eventually drifted away, leaving me alone with my thoughts and the weight of what was coming.
The soft chime of my phone broke the morning stillness. I glanced at the screen to see Anthony’s contact information, along with a message that made my stomach tighten slightly.
"Rey, these aren’t all of them, but I figured you’d want to see them early anyways, Boss."
I stared at the message for a moment, appreciating both Anthony’s foresight and his characteristic brevity. As an A-Rank Spy, he had a talent for gathering information that others couldn’t access, and his timing was impeccable. The UN meeting was still weeks away, but preparation was everything.
A soft knock at the edge of the living room made me look up. Sienna stood there, holding a steaming cup of coffee, her expression quietly observant.
"You look serious," she said, approaching with careful steps.
"Work," I said simply, accepting the coffee gratefully. The warmth of the cup against my palms was comforting, grounding me in the moment.
She studied my face for a moment, then nodded. "I’ll leave you to it," she said, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of my head. "Call if you need anything."
I watched her go, noting the way she moved with quiet confidence. I hadn’t ever noticed that her A-Rank Construction Worker strength was evident in every step even when she was trying to be delicate.
Turning back to my device, I opened the compressed files Anthony had sent. The first folder was labeled "Priority Profiles - UN Meeting Attendees," and I could already sense the weight of what I was about to learn.
The first profile opened with a professional photograph of a woman in her fifties, her silver hair pulled back in an elegant bun, her eyes sharp and calculating. Even in the static image, there was something compelling about her presence.
President Kara Valeska - Poland
Job: Diplomatic Strategist (A-Rank )
The file outlined her impressive track record—conflicts resolved with seemingly impossible ease, international agreements that had taken years to negotiate completed in weeks under her guidance. Her ability to de-escalate tensions was legendary, and Poland had enjoyed unprecedented stability under her leadership.
But it was Anthony’s handwritten note in the margin that caught my attention: "Possible S-Rank in disguise. Poland has too much stability for it to be normal."
I leaned back in my chair, my Deduction skill already working. S-Ranks were incredibly rare, and most kept their true capabilities hidden. If Valeska was indeed S-Rank, she would be far more dangerous than she appeared. My Instinct told me to be wary. If she could manipulate others so effectively then she is not to be underestimated.
The next profile showed a man with kind eyes and a warm smile, but there was steel beneath the surface.
Prime Minister Samuel Osei - Ghana
Job: Urban Developer (A-Rank)
Osei’s achievements were outstanding—devastated cities revitalized into flourishing economic hubs, infrastructure initiatives finished ahead of schedule, and a populace that truly appeared to adore him. However, the document also noted whispers of covert arrangements with top mercenaries, indicating that his methods may not be as innocent as they seemed.
"Potential ally, but don’t trust easily," Anthony had written.
My Strategist skill was already analyzing possibilities. Osei could be valuable if his motivations aligned with mine, but his willingness to work with mercenaries suggested a pragmatic approach that might conflict with my principles. I made a mental note to be cautious.
The third profile made my blood run cold.
Chancellor Liang Mei - China
Job: Cybersecurity Analyst (A-Rank)
The woman in the photograph looked unremarkable—middle-aged, professional, the kind of person who might blend into any crowd. But the file painted a picture of someone who had built one of the most sophisticated surveillance states in history. Her borders were impenetrable, her information networks vast, and most troubling of all, she apparently had suspected ties to both NovaCore and EchoGenics, whose logo resembled that of one of the crashed ships on Mars. Though according to Database, EchoGenics was more focused on biotech, specializing in gene therapy and synthetic organs. They never completed their goal, but there blueprints are still used to advance research.
Anthony’s note was particularly unsettling: "She knows more about you than you know about her."
I felt a chill run down my spine. If Mei had access to NovaCore files, she might know about my connection to my father, about how he created and ran the experiments. The thought of it being used as leverage made my jaw clench.
The fourth profile showed a man who looked like everyone’s favorite uncle—round face, genuine smile, the kind of person you’d trust instinctively.
President Mateo Alvarez - Spain
Job: Resource Allocator (A-Rank)
But beneath the friendly exterior was a man who controlled food and energy distribution across his region. The file detailed his charitable work, his popular public image, but also the rumors that he used economic pressure to eliminate opposition. A smile and a strangling grip, all wrapped in one package.
"He’ll smile while putting you in a cage," Anthony had written, and I could almost hear the dry humor in his voice.
My Observation skill was picking up patterns. These weren’t just politicians—they were people who had learned to use their ranks and abilities to maintain power through various means. Some through inspiration, others through fear, but all through careful manipulation of the systems around them.
The final profile was the most concerning.
Supreme Director Nikita Rostov - Belarus
Public Job: Military Strategist (A-Rank)
The man in the photograph looked like he could have been carved from stone—sharp features, cold eyes, the bearing of someone who had seen too much conflict. But it was the word "Public" in his job description that worried me most. Does Anthony suspect that he’s hiding is real job?
The file detailed his military successes, his ability to maintain readiness while projecting calm, but also included speculation about his true rank. If he was hiding S-Rank capabilities, he would be the most worrisome.
"If he is S-Rank, he’ll be the most dangerous person at the table," Anthony had noted.
I set down the files and rubbed my temples, feeling the weight of what I’d just learned. Five leaders, each with their own agenda, their own methods, their own hidden depths. And these were just the ones Anthony had prioritized—there would be dozens more at the meeting.
My thoughts drifted to Mark’s parting words, his promise that the meeting would be "educational." Was this what he wanted me to see? The complex web of power and manipulation that governed the world? The way even the supposed heroes used their abilities to control others?
I could hear Sienna’s voice in my memory: "Don’t let him win."
Standing up, I walked to the window and looked out at the city below. People were going about their daily lives, unaware of the machinations happening above them. They deserved better than to be pawns in games played by those with power.
But as I studied the profiles again, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was missing something. These leaders weren’t cartoon villains—they were complex people making difficult choices in a world that rewarded strength and punished weakness. The question was whether any of them could be trusted, or if they were all just different versions of the same fundamental problem.
My Instinct was screaming warnings about hidden S-Ranks, about the danger of walking into a room full of people who had built their careers on manipulation and control. But my Strategist skill was already working on contingencies, ways to navigate the complex political landscape while staying true to my principles.
I closed the files and shut off all electronics, then sat back in my chair and closed my eyes. The memorization process was crucial—I needed to remember every detail without leaving any digital trace that could be compromised.
Kara Valeska. Poland. A-Rank Diplomatic Strategist. Possible S-Rank. Unnaturally stable country. Manipulation through persuasion.
Samuel Osei. Ghana. A-Rank Urban Developer. Mercenary connections. Beloved by his people. Potential ally with reservations.
Liang Mei. China. A-Rank Cybersecurity Analyst. NovaCore ties. Surveillance state. Knows too much about me.
Mateo Alvarez. Spain. A-Rank Resource Allocator. Economic control. Public charity, private pressure. Smiles while caging.
Nikita Rostov. Belarus. Officially A-Rank Military Strategist. Possible S-Rank. Most dangerous if true. Stone-cold efficiency.
I repeated the details again, embedding them in my memory, letting my enhanced cognitive abilities process the patterns and connections. Each leader represented a different approach to power, a different way of using the system to achieve their goals.
When I opened my eyes, the apartment was quiet except for the distant sounds of the city. The morning light had shifted, painting everything in warmer tones, but I felt cold inside.
The UN meeting was going to be a battlefield, just not the kind fought with weapons. It would be a war of words, of hidden agendas, of people trying to read each other while concealing their true intentions. And somewhere in the middle of it all, Mark would be watching, waiting for me to see whatever truth he wanted to reveal.
I stood up, rolling my shoulders to release the tension that had built up during my study session. The weight of responsibility settled on me like a familiar coat—heavy, but necessary.
No matter who they were, no matter what they wanted, I needed to be ready. For them. For us. For whatever Mark wanted me to see.
The girls were counting on me. The world was counting on me. And somewhere in the complex web of politics and power, there had to be a way to build something better than what we had.
Even if it meant standing alone against everyone else in that room.
Even if it meant facing the possibility that Mark might be right about some things.
Even if it meant accepting that the path I’d chosen would be longer and harder than I’d ever imagined.
I walked toward the kitchen, where I could hear the soft sounds of Sienna moving around, probably preparing lunch. The simple, domestic normalcy of it was a anchor in the storm of political complexity swirling through my mind.
Whatever was coming, I would face it. But first, I would hold onto these quiet moments, these reminders of what I was fighting for.
The battle was coming. But for now, I had this—the warmth of home, the people I loved, and the certainty that some things were worth any sacrifice to protect.