Beneath the Persian Gulf's turquoise waves, Khalid Al-Mansour, proxy of Saudi Arabia, UAE, Qatar, and neighboring Gulf states, sat in his obsidian chamber, a fortress of silence and shadow. The walls, etched with encrypted runes, pulsed faintly, absorbing all sound. A circular table glowed with holographic projectors, casting 23 flickering figures—each of the Council of 25 in their own hidden lairs across the globe. One projector stood dark, a void where Aryan Kapoor, proxy of Sound, once sat, his empire of India, Bangladesh, Nepal, Pakistan, Bhutan, Singapore, Myanmar, and Thailand now fractured by the God of Darkness's hand. The air thrummed with tension, the Council's unity strained by Kapoor's fall two months prior.
Khalid leaned forward, his white ghutra framing sharp eyes, his voice crackling with his Lightning primordial. "Kapoor's death is a wound. The God of Darkness—a proxy in India—tore through his Satpura cube, killed him, and freed thousands of his contracted. Eight nations reel—corrupt lords exposed, underworlds in chaos. We underestimated him once. We cannot again."
Lin Wei's hologram flickered from her Beijing chamber, its steel walls glinting like blades. Her voice, edged with her Steel primordial's metallic hum, was measured but tense. "My agents in Dhaka and Kathmandu confirm his reach. He contracts thousands in moments, defying limits. My territories—China, Kazakhstan, Mongolia—are too close to his shadows. He's a threat we can't ignore."
Hiroshi Tanaka appeared from a Tokyo bunker, its blue-lit walls rippling with his Ocean primordial. His calm voice masked unease. "He vowed to hunt the Council. India's his proving ground. My domains—Japan, Malaysia, Vietnam—lie in his path if he moves east. Kapoor's 1000 fighters, three villages, Sound's power—gone in minutes. We must act."
The holograms stirred, revealing a fractured Council. A proxy from a volcanic lair in Central America, his voice smoldering with Ember, scoffed. "A single proxy? Kapoor was sloppy—too reliant on his cube. I'd crush this so-called god with a single surge." A woman in a sand-swept North African chamber, her Sand primordial hissing, smirked. "He's a nuisance, not a god. Bribe his allies—turn the journalist, the cop. India's chaos is opportunity."
A proxy from a frost-bound Scandinavian vault, his Ice primordial chilling his words, growled, "You're fools to dismiss him. He's not just a proxy—he's something else. My spies in Bangkok saw his shadows shift entire systems. Underestimate him, and you'll join Kapoor."
Khalid's lightning aura sparked, silencing the din. "Enough. Some of you mock, but the God of Darkness is no mere man. He punched through 15 floors of steel and concrete, freed 2000-3000 contracted without breaking. My Gulf states border his domain—if he moves west, I'm next."
Lin Wei's eyes gleamed like polished steel. "He's probing my borders already—strange silences in Mongolia's elite, riots in Kathmandu. We need a shield, not bravado."
Hiroshi's watery hologram rippled as he traced a holographic map of Asia. "Kapoor's son, Arjun. He inherits billions—networks, influence across eight nations. He's mortal, uncontracted, grieving—perfectly malleable. We send an operative to Mumbai, reveal Kapoor's role as Sound's proxy, and offer Arjun the same contract. Tell him to avenge his father, fight the God of Darkness."
The Ember proxy snorted. "A boy against a god? You're desperate."
Lin Wei's voice cut like a blade. "Not desperate—strategic. Arjun buys time. He rallies India, perhaps Pakistan, slows the God. My steel tech can arm him—drones, sonic disruptors. Khalid's lightning, Hiroshi's fleets—together, we make him a threat."
A Vine proxy from a jungle-shrouded South American lair hissed, "And if Arjun fails? His father's Sound was no match. Why trust a novice?"
Khalid's smile was cold, his lightning hum intensifying. "He doesn't need to win—just stall. My operative, Noor Al-Bakri, will meet Arjun in Mumbai. She'll weave a tale of his father's noble fight against a chaotic god, offer Sound's contract, and promise our support—soldiers, tech, power. Grief and ambition will bind him."
The Ice proxy rumbled, "Your pawn better hold. My satellites caught shadows in Nepal—unnatural, probing. He's already hunting us."
A proxy from an Eastern European stone vault, his Earth primordial heavy, spoke cautiously. "Some of us doubt, but I'm with Khalid. This God's power is unknown—contracting thousands, breaking fortresses. If Arjun distracts him, we fortify—armies, primordials, traps."
The Sand proxy laughed, unconvinced. "Let him come. My deserts will swallow him."
Hiroshi's voice sharpened, waves crashing in his tone. "Mock if you want, but Malaysia's coasts, Vietnam's jungles—they're my front line. I'm not gambling on your arrogance. Arjun's our first move."
The holograms fell silent, a fragile consensus forming. Khalid's eyes burned, fixed on the dark projector where Kapoor once sat. "Noor will turn Arjun into Sound's heir by week's end. The God of Darkness carves his path in India, but we'll forge a wall with his father's son." The projectors dimmed, each chamber—obsidian, steel, water-lit, vine-wrapped—humming with the Council's fractured resolve, their fear and hubris colliding as they staked their survival on a grieving pawn.