Ethan stood on the edge of the Royal Tower's helipad, hands clasped behind his back. From this height, Massachusetts didn't just look like a reconstruction project; it was a living, breathing organism under his iron rule. Automated cranes worked ceaselessly, and the city lights formed a tapestry of gold that answered to only one master.
For a month, Ethan had lived like a true sovereign. He strolled through his domains, enjoyed the company of his women, and cemented his legend. But beneath that veneer of tranquility, Royal's war machine never stopped.
Beside him, Jason was the living embodiment of raw power. The rigorous training and the revolutionary enhancements Ethan had imposed had transformed the soldier: his muscles were no longer just defined; they were sculpted with a density that defied human anatomy. His veins pulsed like steel cables beneath his hardened skin.
