— Washington DC - Whitehouse - A Night before Daniel Arrival —
Within the sterile confines of the Oval Office, President Reginald sat rigid, his face etched with the weight of the situation. Across the polished mahogany table, the other two TriuNovelFireirates mirrored his solemnity, one furrowed brow betraying disbelief etched upon his weathered features.
A top-secret document lay open on the table, its stark black lettering holding the details of a precarious negotiation – the proposed trade-off of Texas for resources from the lunar surface, specifically the coveted Helium-3 that Astral Tech, Daniel Emberweave's company, was poised to unlock.
"As the document outlines," President Reginald's voice carried a tremor barely perceptible, "my daughter secured initial contact with Mr. Emberweave. We stand to gain significant advantages beyond just the lunar resources. Astral Tech's expertise could potentially revolutionize our power generation infrastructure, perhaps even paving the way for Ether-based power plants within our borders."
A scoff rippled through the air as the elder of the two Triumvirates, General Vargas, leaned forward. "Mr. President, with all due respect, I find the notion of trading Texas for the speculative benefits of Astral Tech, garnered at the cost of our soldiers' lives, deeply unsettling.
They are a mere technology company, yes, their advancements may be marginally ahead of ours, and their private military a formidable force. But we are the Confederacy, a nation with the might of a superpower! We have no reason to cower before them. Moreover, I propose we seize this opportunity to claim what is rightfully ours."
President Reginald's brow furrowed. "Elaborate, General."
A glint of steel flickered in Vargas' eyes. "We captured Daniel Emberweave upon his arrival. His naivety in venturing onto our soil for negotiations presents a golden opportunity. A man like him, even with his personal guard, is vulnerable. This, Mr. President, is the leverage we need to extract everything we desire from him."
The other Triumvirate, General Moore, bobbed his head in silent agreement, the allure of unbridled power casting a dark shadow across his calculating gaze.
"Gentlemen," the President's voice resonated with a deep-seated frustration. "Have you truly forgotten the severity of the situation?"
The Triumvirates exchanged perplexed glances. General Moore, his brow furrowed in confusion, spoke, "Forgotten what, Mr. President? We assure you, we haven't forgotten any critical details regarding the negotiation."
The President sighed, a world-weary weariness settling upon his shoulders.
"Never mind. It seems that you two have truly forgotten," the President didn't continue to explain, knowing that they were just ordinary people with insignificant impressions of the Curtain World. They were aware of its existence, where magic and creatures of myth and legend lived hidden among them.
However, the Grand Alteration spell had wiped the memories and impressions of normal people worldwide. Now, magic was merely a concept they saw in movies and fiction, not something to fear.
If this were before the activation of the Grand Alteration spell, the two wouldn't dare to object, knowing Daniel's immense power as a mage. They wouldn't even consider betraying him. But dwelling on the past won't change anything. He just needs to convince them.
"Before we continued our discussion. I should warn you. Daniel Emberweave is not simply a successful businessman and inventor. He possesses capabilities that far exceed the realm of ordinary individuals."
He paused, his gaze unwavering. "I'm afraid you underestimate the potential repercussions of resorting to hostility. Right now, we still don't have concrete information on what kind of weapon he has under his company and the range of its destructive abilities. Therefore, we must strive for a mutually beneficial agreement, even if it requires concessions," said the President.
The general and the senator exchanged confused glances at the president's warning. They didn't understand why the president was so wary of this businessman. Yes, Daniel Emberweave was a genius inventor and a successful businessman, but he only had a PMC, and the PMC's manpower was a far cry from that of an entire country.
Daniel could, of course, use superior technology to subdue some small, backward country in Southeast Asia. But this time, they were talking about the Confederacy, occupying half of North America, with negotiations set to happen at the Texas border. The geographical advantage was theirs. Why should they fear a single businessman?
"With all due respect, Mr. President, I don't see the problem here. Daniel Emberweave is just one man, and even though the capabilities of his superior technology might surpass ours, we have the manpower of an entire country, not to mention the geographical advantage," General Moore tried to reason with the president.
"You don't understand him like I do, General… I can only tell you that. What we've seen is just the tip of the iceberg. He possesses capabilities that lie beyond the realm of MERE individuals.
If I told you that he has a super-submarine the size of half of Manhattan, with firepower enough to turn us into the Stone Age, would you believe me?" The President asked, his eyes locked onto the general, devoid of any hint of deception.
Hearing this, the general glanced at the senators. They, too, found it hard to believe the President's words, knowing the complications and technological challenges associated with building such a large submarine.
They could reluctantly believe if the president said that Daniel Emberweave had a submarine the size of an aircraft carrier. That was believable. But the size of half of Manhattan? Come on... they were living in the real world, not some comic book. It was extremely impractical to build a submarine like that.
"You don't believe me, do you?" the president uttered.
President Aldenmere slammed his fist on the polished mahogany table, the sudden noise echoing in the tense silence of the Oval Office. "General Moore, your dismissal of this opportunity is shortsighted! We cannot afford to neglect Mr. Emberweave's resources. Your continued opposition leaves me with no choice!"
General Moore leaned back in his chair, his face a mask of stoicism. "Mr. President, with all due respect, decisions of this nature require careful consideration. Intuition alone is not enough."
The President's eyes narrowed. "Intuition? General, I assure you, the information we possess is reliable. Mr. Emberweave possesses... unconventional resources that necessitate a cautious yet firm approach.
General, considering your demonstrably inflexible stance on this crucial matter, I am forced to –"
Before the President could finish his sentence, a commotion erupted at the door. Several heavily armed soldiers burst into the Oval Office, their faces grim and determined. They pointed their standard-issue rifles at the President, their movements precise and coordinated.
General Moore rose from his chair, a cold smile playing on his lips. "Mr. President, it seems our discussion has reached a... conclusion."
"What is the meaning of this?" the president asked in a threatening tone.
"President Reginald Aldenmere, on behalf of the people of the Confederacy, you are hereby stripped of your position as the President of the Confederacy of America. Your concessions to the United States of America have brought shame upon us. And now, you seek to negotiate with those Americans using our Texas, land for which our soldiers shed their blood.
It is unacceptable," General Moore declared, his righteous facade betrayed by his cunning smile.
"Arrest him!" General Moore roared. His voice echoed in the tense silence following the President's defiance.
Two heavily armed soldiers lunged towards the President. He rose from his chair with surprising agility, momentarily pushing the soldiers back with a surge of unseen energy. Their training faltered for a split second, but they quickly regained their footing and surrounded him.
"Stand down, Mr. President," General Moore ordered, his voice laced with a dangerous calm. "This is not in your best interest."
The President's eyes flashed with defiance. He lunged at the window, shattering the glass with a powerful burst of energy that crackled around his fist. He launched himself through the opening, disappearing into the night.
General Moore's face contorted in anger. "Open fire! Don't let him escape!"
A hail of gunfire erupted from the soldiers' rifles. The President, illuminated by the moonlight, seemed to move with an unnatural agility as he used a shimmering shield of energy to deflect bullets raining down around him. However, the sustained barrage eventually took its toll. He stumbled, his magical reserves dwindling.
Before the soldiers could close in, a strange glint appeared in the President's eyes. He uttered a cryptic phrase in a foreign tongue, his voice resonating with power. The soldiers stumbled back, momentarily disoriented by a wave of invisible energy.
Seizing the opportunity, the President sprinted towards the White House fence. He propelled himself over the barrier with an exertion that left him gasping for breath. However, his efforts seemed to drain him, and he slumped against the barrier, panting heavily.
General Moore cursed under his breath. The President's unexpected resilience had thrown him off balance. He barked orders, and two soldiers rushed towards the fence, aiming their rifles at the President.
Suddenly, a figure emerged from the shadows near the White House. A velvet cloaked individual, their face obscured, raised a hand. A tendril of dark energy pulsed from under the shadow of the robe, striking the President directly. He convulsed, collapsing to the ground at the foot of the fence.
The soldiers hesitated, their rifles lowered in confusion. General Moore, however, understood what had transpired. He glared at the cloaked figure, his voice filled with rage. "Who are you!?, and what have you done?"
The cloaked figure remained silent, turning away from General Moore and disappearing back into the night. The soldiers cautiously approached the President, confirming his unconscious state before securing him.
As the soldiers led the President away, General Moore's face remained etched with a grim determination. His coup had succeeded, but the intervention of the unknown figure added an unsettling element to his victory.
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