The silence in the briefing room lingered longer than it should have.
Arjun didn't break it immediately.
"Then what can we do?" Arjun asked finally.
The officer straightened. "We monitor," he said. "We track finances. Movements. Recruitment patterns. We wait for mistakes."
"How many people suffer while we wait?" Arjun asked.
The officer didn't answer right away.
Arjun's eyes drifted past him.
One of the side monitors was running silently, muted like background noise no one bothered to acknowledge. Headlines scrolled at the bottom. Blurred footage. A crowd. Police tape.
Arjun raised a hand slightly.
"Unmute that."
The officer hesitated, then nodded.
The officer hesitated, then nodded.
The room filled with sound.
"…breaking news coming in," the reporter said, voice tense. "A violent clash between two rival player guilds erupted just a few hours ago in the eastern district."
The footage sharpened.
Nighttime streets. Shattered windows. People running.
"These guilds were seen using Tower-derived abilities," the reporter continued. "In the footage, one individual is clearly identified unleashing a high-grade fire-type skill."
The screen showed it.
A wave of flame tearing through the street like it didn't belong to the world. Cars melting. Shops burning. Fire climbing the sides of residential buildings.
"Due to the fire spreading uncontrollably," the reporter said, voice shaking now, "a nearby apartment complex caught fire."
The camera cut to charred walls. Smoke-blackened windows. Stretchers lined up on the road.
"Nine residents have been confirmed dead," she said. "Twenty-five others are critically injured.
The words hung in the air.
No one in the briefing room moved.
Arjun's fists clenched slowly.
"They used the Tower," he said, quiet and sharp. "And people burned for it."
The officer lowered his gaze. "Yes, sir."
Arjun didn't look at him.
He kept staring at the screen—at the fire, the stretchers, the body bags half-covered with sheets.
"How many people suffer while we wait?" Arjun asked again.
This time, everyone knew the answer.
And it made waiting feel impossible.
The reporter's voice continued in the background, softer now, almost drowned out by the crackle of burning footage.
"…authorities are urging civilians to avoid the area. Investigations are ongoing…"
Arjun reached out and muted the screen himself.
The silence that followed was worse.
He turned back to the officer, eyes hard. "This isn't an investigation problem anymore," he said. "It's a control problem."
The officer nodded slowly. "Yes, sir. But our hands—"
"—are tied by rules written before the Tower existed," Arjun finished. "I know."
Arjun's gaze didn't soften.
"Then tell me this," he said. "How exactly are the police supposed to combat these guilds?"
The officer drew a slow breath. "Law enforcement does have a few awakened players," he replied. "They assist in containment and emergency response when incidents cross a certain threshold."
Arjun frowned. "I don't recall a single public case where the police recruited players after the Tower appeared."
"That's because they didn't," the officer said. "Almost all awakened personnel in the police were already officers before awakening. When the Towers arrived, a handful of them… changed."
He hesitated, then added, "That's why their numbers are so low."
Arjun's jaw tightened. "So they're nowhere near enough to handle organized guilds."
"No, sir," the officer admitted.
"Then what's the plan?" Arjun asked. "How are they countering groups like this?"
The officer's expression turned grim. "They don't. Not directly."
He gestured to another folder on the table. "When situations escalate beyond police capability, they submit a formal request to the army."
Arjun looked up. "The military?"
"Yes," the officer said. "The army has been training and researching awakened soldiers since the appearance of the Tower. Structured units. Controlled deployment. Heavy oversight."
Silence settled again.
Arjun stared at the table, then shook his head slowly. "So civilians wait. Police stall. And the army steps in after bodies hit the ground."
The officer didn't deny it.
Arjun straightened.
"That delay," he said quietly, "is exactly where people like those guilds thrive."
The officer finally spoke.
"Then what should we do, sir?"
Arjun looked up.
Not at the officer—
at everyone in the room.
"We stop waiting."
The officer frowned. "Sir?"
Arjun stood. The chair scraped softly against the floor.
"We create our own force," he said. "A unit that responds immediately to player-related crimes. No delays. No paperwork loops. No waiting for the army.
The room stiffened.
"A specialized response force," Arjun continued. "Made to deal with awakened individuals. Guild violence. Tower abilities used outside."
"That would cross jurisdictions," the officer said carefully. "Police. Military. Internal security—"
"I know exactly what it crosses," Arjun cut in. "That's the point."
He tapped the table once.
"Right now, players exist in a gap. Too strong for police. Too small for the army. That gap is killing people."
Silence pressed down.
"So we close it," Arjun said. "With a force that answers to one mandate only—control player violence before it spreads."
The officer swallowed.
"And who commands this force?"
Arjun didn't hesitate.
"We do."
The room went still.
"This isn't about power," Arjun added, voice low. "It's about speed. If we don't act fast, guilds will decide the rules instead."
No one argued.
Because the fire on the screen was still fresh in their minds.
A hand went up near the end of the table.
A legal advisor. Quiet till now.
"There's a problem," he said carefully. "Any force like this would be unconstitutional. Use of Tower abilities by the state without clear legal framing would not be tolerated by citizens.
"We make it a regulatory authority," Arjun said. "Emergency response plus enforcement. Like disaster control—but for awakened incidents."
"That still needs legal backing," the advisor pressed. "Parliament approval. Emergency clauses. Oversight committees—"
"I'll handle that," he said.
The legal advisor looked up. "Sir?"
"I'll meet the Prime Minister myself," Arjun said. "I'll make him understand what delay is costing us. Bodies don't argue law—they prove failure."
The room went dead quiet.
"Until then," Arjun continued, voice firm," Observation only."
He looked at the officer.
"I want eyes on every major guild. Movements. Territory disputes. Recruitment spikes. Anything and everything.
"Yes, sir."
"Prepare a full dossier," Arjun said. "Casualty reports. Property damage. Financial trails. Every incident the police couldn't touch."
He turned to the legal advisor.
"And you," Arjun said, "start drafting the framework. Clean language. Public safety. Emergency response. Zero political poison."
The advisor nodded slowly.
Arjun straightened, gaze sharp.
"When I walk into that office," he said, "I don't want opinions."
"I want evidence."