The hum of state-of-the-art technology buzzed quietly beneath the polished marble floor, a low undercurrent of tension that matched the mood in the room.
Seated around an obsidian, horseshoe-shaped table were fifteen of the world's most powerful figures—leaders in global defense, cybernetics, biochemistry, quantum engineering, and geopolitical security.
Above them, holographic projections hovered and flickered, rotating between maps painted in shades of red and blue, digital charts pulsing with data, and time-coded satellite feeds of recent Blink activity.
At the center of the room, beneath a single shaft of white light, stood a man dressed in matte black armor traced with indigo circuitry—Commander Lucian Voss.
No one in the room questioned his authority. He didn't demand respect; it was bred into the air around him. His presence was like cold steel—disciplined, measured, and always lethal.
---
"The metrics speak for themselves," Lucian Voss began, voice clipped and resonant.
He gestured to a floating screen behind him, which displayed a jagged, escalating chart.
"Seventeen emergence points in the last three months. Casualties have risen by 212%."
An audible murmur rippled through the chamber.
"And yet," Voss continued, unfazed, "Directive Zero has only been deployed twice. Because the incidents hadn't escalated to Tier Five mutations."
---
Dr. Rameen Sorell, Director of Bioethics and Research, clicked her pen, frowning.
"We have sensors, Voss. Tracers. Quantum signature detectors implanted across high-risk zones. We should've caught this rise before it hit the redline."
"They were caught," Voss replied calmly. "But every Blink adapts faster than the last. Mutation variance has accelerated. We need to stop treating this like a science experiment and more like an invasive war."
---
Across the table, an older man scoffed, folding his arms.
High Chancellor Durell Vex. His white hair was sleekly combed back, a sharp contrast to the smugness etched into every corner of his face.
"Your division consumes billions in R&D, military black funding, and god-knows-what else, and yet we're still watching the death toll rise," Vex sneered.
"You call yourselves Aegis, but what do we have to show for it? Ancient weaponry. Enhanced anomalies. Shadow games."
Voss turned to him slowly.
"Better ancient weapons than empty suits in glass towers, Chancellor."
The air in the room stiffened.
---
Before a full retort could ignite, a soft voice broke the tension.
"What we need... is precision."
All eyes turned to a young man at the far end of the table. Lieutenant Elion Rhane. Junior on the council, but always observant.
"What are you suggesting, Lieutenant?" asked Dr. Sorell, intrigued.
Elion leaned forward, fingers steepled.
"A task force. Specialized. Not just trained for combat, but multi-disciplinary. Tactical engineers. Cybernetics. Field medicine. Behavioral analysts. Biological specialists.
Think of them as ghost operatives. Their job wouldn't be to wait for full-scale Blink evolution. They'd strike the moment a hotspot is detected—before the infection can mature."
---
Voss tilted his head, intrigued.
"You mean assign them to sub-Tier incursions?" asked another member.
"Exactly," Elion said. "We can't keep stretching Directive Zero for every incident. They're meant for high-priority, evolutionary-grade threats. We need a team to handle what comes before that."
A few murmurs of agreement circulated, but Vex was quick to counter.
"You want to pour more resources into a fantasy squad? More training. More tech. More speculation."
"Not fantasy," Elion replied. "Elite practicality. And not just anyone. Recruits who have already undergone the rigors of at least one high-specialization field.
Fighters who are already legends in their corners of the world. We shape them into one coordinated unit."
---
Voss remained silent, watching the exchange with darkened eyes.
"You're suggesting a preemptive strike division," someone whispered.
"No," Voss finally spoke, voice slow, deliberate. "He's suggesting the evolution of our war."
He stepped away from the central console, arms folded behind his back. His shadow fell long across the floor.
"In all my years in this chair," Voss said, tone low, "not once has a proposal made me feel like this war could be turned on its head."
He looked directly at Elion, a wicked glint in his eyes.
"And yet, here I am. Grinning."
---
A beat of silence.
Then Dr. Sorell leaned forward.
"And what would we call such a force?"
Voss smirked.
"They don't need a name yet. They need a crucible."
---
As the council erupted into renewed debate, Elion allowed himself the smallest smile.
Somewhere in the depths of Aegis Division's underground complex, a new era had just been whispered into life.
And it was watching