Beneath the Persian Gulf's churning, sapphire waves, Khalid Al-Mansour, proxy of Saudi Arabia, UAE, Qatar, and neighboring Gulf states, sat in his obsidian chamber, a fortress that devoured light and sound. Walls etched with encrypted runes pulsed faintly, shielding his presence. A circular table glowed with holographic projectors, their hum mingling with the crackle of his Lightning primordial. Two months after Aryan Kapoor's death, the Council of 25 reeled, their dominion over 200 nations shaken by the God of Darkness—a rogue proxy in India, his name unknown, who had obliterated Kapoor's empire of India, Bangladesh, Nepal, Pakistan, Bhutan, Singapore, Myanmar, and Thailand. Khalid's sharp eyes, framed by a pristine white ghutra, burned with calculated urgency as he activated a secure channel.
"Noor Al-Bakri, report immediately," he commanded, his voice sparking like a fierce storm.
Noor materialized via a teleportation rune, her dark hijab framing a face both poised and razor-sharp. Uncontracted but fiercely loyal, she was Khalid's finest operative—charming, cunning, a master of persuasion. She bowed slightly, her dark eyes meeting his. "Master, you summoned me?"
Khalid's lightning aura flared, casting jagged shadows across the obsidian walls. "Aryan Kapoor's son, Arjun, inherits his father's vast wealth—billions, networks, influence across eight nations. He's mortal, uncontracted, and unaware of his father's role as Sound's proxy. Officially, Kapoor's missing, the Satpura incident buried by authorities. But Arjun's used his wealth to uncover that his father was killed, though he knows nothing of the site or the killer. You will go to Mumbai, reveal the truth—that Kapoor was a proxy, murdered by the God of Darkness—and convince him to accept Sound's contract to avenge him."
Noor's brow arched, her voice steady. "He knows his father's dead but not the details? And the God of Darkness—India's legend, the punisher of the corrupt?"
"Exactly," Khalid said, his tone icy cold. "The God of Darkness is a dire threat we can't ignore—1000 fighters, three villages, Kapoor's Sound, crushed in minutes. Arjun's our shield. Tell him his father was a titan among 25 who rule the world, killed in Satpura by a rogue proxy. Offer him Sound's power—control over minds, nations—and our support: my lightning tech, Lin Wei's steel drones, Tanaka's naval forces. Frame it as a test to claim his father's legacy, to prove his worth for a seat among us. Say the Council has no interest in his father's domain—it's his to rule if he defeats the God."
Noor nodded, calculating. "And the Council's stance?
Khalid's smile was predatory, a flash of lightning in his eyes. "Hide it. Some scoff, call him a mere nuisance; others ignore him. But those near India—me, Lin Wei, Tanaka—know he's a relentless storm. Arjun buys time to fortify. Make him believe he'll be invincible, a king among the 25, not a pawn to others."
Noor inclined her headin respect. "I'll leave for Mumbai tonight, Master."