The scene shifted to France—a nation that, unlike most parts of the world, remained untouched by the chaos and corruption sweeping across continents. Neither did it indulge in the blind adoption of futuristic technologies, nor did it crumble under the manipulation of the UN. It stood like a lone lighthouse amid a stormy sea.
The reason? One man.A symbol of unwavering justice.The detective of the core.The nightmare of the corrupt.The heart of humanity.A mind sharper than any blade.
Théodore Marchand—the last bearer of the prestigious Marchand lineage, a family once entangled with the UN itself. But unlike the others, Théodore had walked away from their power, choosing morality over manipulation, truth over tyranny.
The scene faded into his room—minimal, silent, and filled with books and papers stacked meticulously. Théodore sat calmly on a chair by the window, eating a crisp apple, eyes glancing over the distant horizon as if he could see through borders and deceptions alike.
His trusted subordinate, Mathieu Chevalier, stepped in urgently.
"Sir," Mathieu began, slightly breathless, "is it true? Are you leaving France… to go to India? To investigate the reports of disappearances?"
Théodore nodded, standing up and tossing the apple core into a nearby bin. "Yes. I must go. I can't let innocent people vanish while I remain comfortable in the safety of my own land. This isn't betrayal, Mathieu—this is humanity. I don't believe in protecting a nation by ignoring the cries of others. We're all human… and Earth is already bleeding. The answers we seek, the root of all this madness—it won't be found just within our borders."
Mathieu's voice cracked with fear. "But sir… without you, France will fall like the others. We could be the next target. The UN will try to infect our systems too, just like they did in Korea, Japan… and even the U.S."
Théodore walked toward him, placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "Then I trust you to hold the line. I've trained you, taught you everything I know. You carry my principles now. The flame won't die with me gone. You can protect this country."
"But… I'm not you," Mathieu said quietly, almost whispering.
Théodore smiled—calm, wise, unwavering. "No, Mathieu. You won't be me. You'll be better."
He turned, cloak swaying as he stepped toward the door, his eyes focused on the uncertain road ahead.
And just like that, France's protector walked out—not for glory, not for power—but for the world.