Chapter 177

The boardroom of the Light corporation towered high above the human city, its walls of glass overlooking a sea of skyscrapers. The long, polished table gleamed with documents and tablets stacked neatly, surrounded by men and women in tailored suits-his board of advisors, financial officers, and war strategists.

Mirage sat at the head, immaculately dressed in charcoal, his expression cold and unreadable as his advisors droned on about quarterly reports, trade routes, and new ...