Michael accepted the handshake. At the moment he was at the most secure place in the whole solar system. Even if Absolute Lord Nemesis had any kind of ill intent, acting on it would be the same as suicide.
The two men settled at a rather isolated table, not wanting someone to bother them.
Michael silently observed the Lord. The man had white pupils and raven-black hair trimmed on the shorter side.
"So, what do you wish to converse with me about?" Michael's eyes narrowed in suspicion.
Nemesis chuckled.
"Straight to the point? I like that!"
Raising a hand, he gestured for a waiter to come near, taking hold of a glass containing an expensive rum. After Nemesis took a sip, he spoke.
"Let me be frank. Join me. We only stand to gain if your faction merges with ours."
Michael raised an eyebrow, admittedly taken by surprise. Seeing his confusion, Nemesis elaborated.
"I assume that you know the difference between a medium-sized faction and a large one?"
