Chapter 5
The Council of Princes
The view from my office was a tapestry of shimmering light, a masterpiece I had orchestrated myself. Below, the new world capital, once a patchwork of warring nations, now hummed with a singular, unified energy. The air was clean, the night sky unmarred by the soot of industry. I inhaled the rich, complex smoke of my favorite cigar, the earthy scent a reminder of a victory savored over decades. This office, a perfect replica of the antiquated American "Oval Office" they all revered, was the perfect throne room. The large, bulletproof window showed a world that was mine, a toy I had so painstakingly constructed and was now in the process of dismantling.
Humanity. They were so predictable in their desires. They craved peace, unity, and a sense of belonging. I gave them all of it, and they ate it up like hungry puppies. They called me Light, their savior, their benevolent leader who solved world hunger and ended all conflict. They had no idea that their perfect world was nothing more than a field I had prepared, a rich soil ready to receive a darker, more beautiful seed.
A soft, deferential knock came from the heavy mahogany door. I took a final puff from my cigar, the ember a brilliant orange in the darkness, and placed it in an obsidian ashtray.
"Enter," I commanded.
My chief advisor, a man named Arthur whose mind was as sharp as his suits, slipped into the room. He kept his eyes lowered, a sign of respect that had become a natural part of his demeanor.
"My lord," he said, his voice a quiet reverence. "The Third Kind is on the secure line. They are requesting your immediate presence."
I felt a subtle flicker of something akin to amusement. The Third Kind. The Demon Council. They were so formal in their ancient customs, even in this new age. Arthur, of course, believed them to be a clandestine group of world leaders, the final seven who held true power. He had no idea he was talking about my brothers.
"Tell them I'll be with them shortly," I replied, my voice calm.
Arthur hesitated, a small wrinkle of concern on his brow. "They were rather insistent, my lord. They said it was a matter of… great consequence. They mentioned the 'failures' in prosper city."
Ah. The two. The ones who had refused my gift. I had been made aware of their stubborn resistance. My human collaborators had reported on their movements. I was curious to see what my brothers would make of it.
I smiled, a slow, genuine smile that did not reach my eyes. "It seems my little project has finally captured their attention."
Arthur's face remained a mask of polite incomprehension. He had no idea what I was talking about. He couldn't possibly understand the games we played, the millennia-long chess match with humanity as the board.
"Very well, Arthur," I said, rising from my chair. "Let's not keep them waiting."
I walked towards the secure terminal in the corner of the room, my reflection a perfect, untroubled image in the darkened glass. My brothers were calling. The time had come to report on the state of the world, and to prepare for the grand finale.