Amara's POV
I stood beside Chris in the Council Room, but today I wasn't just his wife—I was the Empress, the Executor of Imperial Order. The failure of last night still pulsed like a wound across the palace, visible in the nervous glances, the tightened shoulders, the guards who triple-checked their weapons.
I waited for the murmurs to die down before I stepped forward again, my black boots clicking across the onyx tiles.
> "Your Majesty," I said, turning to Chris formally, even though the bond between us was now sealed deeper than blood. "I hereby request authorization for five million B.A.M units to be deployed under my exclusive command."
The chamber went still.
Chris tilted his head. He didn't smile, didn't flinch. Just stared, like he already knew where I was going.
> "Why five million?" he asked.
I didn't hesitate.
> "Because our enemies don't sleep. They mutate. They adapt. And they do so in the shadows. One intruder reached the Emperor's chamber. What happens when it's ten? What happens when it's an entire faction, disguised, embedded in our system?
> I want five million. Not to defend. To hunt."
I looked around the room, letting my voice rise:
> "I will divide them across our twenty-four sectors. They will report only to me. No emotion. No hesitation. Only loyalty. I want their blades sharp, their minds trained to respond to codewords, and their presence unseen until it's too late."
There was a pause.
Then Chris stood.
His voice echoed like thunder off the walls.
> "Granted."
Gasps. Even Darius shifted in his seat.
Chris turned toward me, eyes narrowed—but proud.
> "Take them. Train them. Use them. And Amara…"
He stepped closer, until his voice was meant for me alone.
> "Whatever you uncover—eliminate it without question. Even if it wears the Blackwood name."
I nodded once.
> "As you command."
And in that moment, I knew. I wasn't just guarding the Empire anymore.
I was the sword in the dark.
The purge begins.
—