Michael Corleone's days were measured in obligations.
Luke felt it the moment he woke each morning in the Corleone compound—not by the clock, but by the weight of expectations already waiting for him. Before breakfast, there were reports. After breakfast, meetings. Afternoons were reserved for negotiations that never quite ended, and evenings belonged to family dinners where everyone pretended not to notice the distance between them.
This was Michael's life in this period.
Controlled.
Isolated.
Lonely.
Kay sat across from him at the long dining table, posture composed, smile polite. She spoke about their children, about events and social obligations, about things that belonged to a normal marriage.
Michael listened.
Luke listened better.
He noticed the pauses—how Kay chose her words carefully, as if walking across thin ice. He noticed how her eyes searched Michael's face for reassurance that never came.
Love had not died here.
It had simply been buried beneath silence.
Connie, by contrast, was never quiet. Her presence was sharp, emotional, unpredictable. She oscillated between loyalty and resentment, defending the family fiercely one moment and accusing Michael of destroying it the next.
Luke let her speak.
He didn't correct her.
She needed to be heard more than she needed to be right.
And Fredo—
Luke saw him clearly now.
Not the traitor history remembered, but a man shaped by years of comparison and disappointment. Fredo laughed too loudly, drank too much, and masked his insecurity with bravado. He wanted recognition, not power.
Michael had punished him for weakness.
Luke would redirect it.
Outside the family, the world pressed in relentlessly.
Rival interests tested boundaries. Politicians smiled and asked for favors. Church officials spoke of morality while counting donations. Every relationship came with invisible strings attached.
This was the era of respectable corruption.
And Michael stood at its center.
Late one night, alone in his study, Luke finally summoned the System.
The air cooled.
Light condensed.
[World of Remorse — Karma Store Access Granted]
Current Karma Balance: 200 KP
Luke's gaze moved directly to one option.
Political Acumen — 180 KP
Deep understanding of political systemsLong-term alliance structuringAnticipation of legislative shiftsStrategic use of influence without exposure
He didn't hesitate.
"This," Luke said.
[Confirmation]Spend 180 Karma Points on Political Acumen?
"Yes."
The knowledge did not arrive as a flood.
It arrived as connections.
Luke's mind reorganized information automatically—campaign cycles, power blocs, donor influence, judicial incentives. He saw patterns where there had only been noise before.
Politics was no longer chaotic.
It was predictable.
He leaned back in the chair, breathing slowly as the sensation faded.
[Karma Points Remaining: 20 ]
The study felt different now.
Luke picked up a folder from his desk—one he'd reviewed dozens of times before—and flipped it open again. This time, he saw more than names and figures.
He saw leverage.
Paths that led forward without violence.
A future where the Corleone family did not need to rule through fear.
Luke closed the folder and looked toward the darkened hallway beyond the study.
Michael Corleone had lived this life trapped between love and power.
Luke would live it differently.
Not as a conqueror.
But as an architect.