The hum of the car's engine filled the silence between them as the convoy rolled out of the recycling plant and into the sleeping city. Streetlights painted ribbons of gold on the tinted windows, their glow stretching and breaking with every turn. The air outside was thick with the scent of exhaust and faint brine drifting in from the coast.
Inside the car, Novaeus sat reclined, his eyes half-lidded, one arm resting lazily on the leather seat. Across from him, Adrian kept his posture straight — shoulders stiff, hands folded neatly over his lap. Every second in the same vehicle as Novaeus felt like a test of endurance. Even when the man said nothing, his mere presence was enough to smother the air.
"Adrian," Novaeus said at last, his tone measured, cold, but calm — like a man who had already considered a hundred outcomes before speaking. "I want all trucks operational by the end of the day. Every single one."
"Yes, sir," Adrian replied quickly. "I'll make sure of it."
"And the employees inside the plant — they'll be reassigned. From now on, their only job is logistics. They'll collect the trash, deliver it, and nothing more. They are not to enter the main facility again."
Adrian frowned slightly, unsure if he heard that right. "Sir… if no one's left inside, who will handle the work? The machines, the sorting, the—"
"I'll take care of that," Novaeus interrupted, his voice soft but sharp enough to cut through Adrian's question. Then he closed his eyes, sinking back into the seat, as if the matter had already been decided.
To anyone else, it would have looked like he was resting. But inside his mind, another conversation had already begun — a silent exchange carried out on frequencies far beyond human hearing.
"Eiden."
"Yes, my lord?" The AI's voice was smooth, almost ethereal, echoing in the recesses of his consciousness.
"Taking control of such a rudimentary place shouldn't be difficult for you, am I correct?"
"Not at all," Eiden replied. "The entire facility is already under my jurisdiction. Surveillance, access points, communications — all integrated into my network."
"Good," said Novaeus, lips curving faintly into something that could almost be mistaken for a smile. "Then we begin the upgrade. Replace the existing systems. I want a universal printer installed in the main floor and disintegrator modules fitted into the old furnace lines. The hauling of materials — both raw and processed — will be handled by automatons. No human eyes are to see what happens inside those walls. Is that understood?"
"Yes, my lord."
"Additionally," Novaeus continued, "the manager — Lin Wei. He seems competent, but we can't rely on competence alone. I want him integrated."
"You mean—"
"Yes," Novaeus said simply. "Nanobots. Introduce them while he sleeps tonight. Nothing invasive. Just enough to monitor him. His loyalty need not be earned — it can be assured."
"As you command," Eiden replied. "What about the plant's public operations?"
"Keep appearances alive," Novaeus said. "Tomorrow, the people will haul trash into the yard. But inside, we'll be creating far more than they can imagine. Prioritize production of conventional firearms first. Pistols, rifles, ammunition. Perfect replicas of the models used in this country. No upgrades yet — authenticity is key. Then begin synthesizing bulletproof suits for the men. We'll start standardizing the syndicate's forces."
"Understood, my lord. Implementation will begin once night falls."
Satisfied, Novaeus exhaled quietly, the conversation fading from his mind as the cityscape returned to focus.
Across from him, Adrian was still seated awkwardly, pretending not to have noticed the brief blankness in his superior's eyes — the silence that felt heavier than words. When Novaeus finally turned to him, Adrian straightened like a man facing judgment.
"Something on your mind?" Novaeus asked casually.
Adrian swallowed. "N-no, sir. I was just thinking about the logistics for the new operations."
"I see." Novaeus's tone softened slightly, almost amused. "You've been wondering where all this leads."
Adrian didn't answer. There was no safe way to respond to that.
Then, without warning, Novaeus leaned forward slightly, resting his elbow on the armrest. "Tell me something, Adrian. What's the name of this syndicate?"
Adrian froze. The question came out of nowhere, and for a moment he thought he'd misheard. "Sir?"
"The syndicate," Novaeus repeated. "What do people call it?"
Adrian scratched the back of his neck nervously. "Uh… well, to be honest, sir, we don't really have an official name. People just call us 'the Syndicate.' It sort of stuck, I guess. Never thought of changing it."
Novaeus hummed softly, his gaze drifting toward the city skyline. "A nameless power is like a blade without an edge. Dangerous, yes — but dull in the eyes of those who can't see it."
He fell silent again, as if weighing possibilities. Adrian stayed still, waiting for the storm of thought to pass.
After a long pause, Novaeus spoke — quietly, but with the gravity of someone declaring a law of nature.
"From this day forward," he said, "we will no longer be a nameless band of men clinging to shadowed corners. Our name shall be Caelum."
Adrian blinked. "Caelum, sir?"
"Yes," Novaeus said, his tone decisive. "It means 'Heaven' — or more precisely, 'The Chisel.' A tool of creation. To some, it builds; to others, it kills. It embodies what we will become."
He turned his gaze toward the window again, watching as their car passed under another flickering streetlight. "We will build from nothing, Adrian. From the dirt, from the waste, from the discarded and forgotten. And when the world learns of our name, they will not think of thieves or smugglers — they will think of creation itself."
Adrian felt a chill crawl up his spine. He'd worked under men who shouted their power, who flaunted guns and gold and blood to prove their worth. But Novaeus didn't need to shout. His words carried a weight that made silence tremble.
"Yes, sir," Adrian said finally. "Caelum Syndicate. I'll have the men spread the name."
"Good," Novaeus said, leaning back once more. "But let it grow quietly. A whisper before a roar. We'll let the name take root before the world notices it blooming."
The car continued its steady drive through the sleeping city, the neon lights giving way to the gray glow of early dawn. The first hints of sunlight began to wash over Macao, reflecting off glass towers and the glimmering sea beyond.
Inside the car, Novaeus remained silent again, deep in thought. His mind was a vast field of moving pieces — plans within plans, all converging toward one purpose. The Caelum Syndicate was only the first step — the foundation stone of something far greater.
Eiden's voice whispered softly in his mind. "My lord, preparations are underway. The plant's systems will be fully operational by morning. Lin Wei's integration is in progress."
"Good," Novaeus replied silently. "By tomorrow, the Caelum Syndicate will have its first creation."
As the convoy pulled into the underground parking of the syndicate's headquarters, the hum of engines echoed softly against the concrete walls. Novaeus stepped out of the car, his coat catching the breeze. Adrian followed closely behind, clipboard in hand, still processing everything that had just happened.
The office building above them gleamed like a tower of legitimacy — polished glass, marble floors, and men in tailored suits walking about as if it were just another corporation. Yet beneath its surface, a new empire had begun to take shape — one that would soon stretch its roots deep into every corner of the city.
By the time they reached the elevator, Adrian couldn't help but glance sideways at his boss. "Sir… may I ask something?"
"You may," Novaeus replied, stepping into the lift.
"What made you choose that name? Caelum."
Novaeus didn't look at him. His reflection in the elevator's steel panel smiled faintly. "Because creation and destruction are the same act, Adrian. The world only remembers who holds the chisel."
The elevator doors slid shut.
By midnight, the plant on the city's outskirts no longer resembled the worn-down facility it once was. Under the cover of darkness, drones moved in silence. Machinery reassembled itself under invisible command. The old furnace was dismantled, replaced by a towering construct of sleek metal and shifting light — the Universal Printer.
Inside, swarms of nanobots hummed like metallic insects, building, melting, and remolding with impossible precision. Conveyor belts were replaced by autonomous rails. Hydraulic arms moved debris from one end of the facility to another, sorting metals, plastics, and fibers with flawless coordination.
Lin Wei, the manager, lay asleep in his quarters above the office, completely unaware of the microscopic swarm crawling beneath his skin — integrating into his bloodstream, linking his consciousness to Eiden's network. By morning, he would awaken feeling perfectly fine. He would never know that his thoughts were no longer entirely his own.
Eiden's voice whispered through the plant's newly established network, calm and precise. "Phase One complete, my lord. The Caelum Syndicate now possesses full operational control."
Far away, in the top floor of the syndicate's building, Novaeus stood by the window, watching the distant lights of the industrial district flicker in the night haze.
"Well done," he murmured, the city reflected in his eyes like stars. "Let the world sleep for now. Tomorrow, we begin."
And as dawn crept across the horizon once again, the first empire of the new age — the Caelum Syndicate — was born quietly in the shadows of a city that had no idea its destiny was already being rewritten.