Chris's POV
The silence in the room was thick, almost sacred, as I stared out at the city—my city. The towering skyscrapers that kissed the clouds, the glowing emblems of the Blackwood Union carved into every screen, flag, and citizen's mind. Every decision I made reverberated through millions of lives. That's why I didn't tolerate half-measures, even from my own blood.
A soft chime echoed through the chamber. A secure transmission.
"Send it through," I commanded.
The holographic screen unfolded from the table in front of me. It was the final draft—names, titles, roles, clearances, territories, compensation packages, and most importantly, the power boundaries of each appointee. All as I had requested. Christiana hadn't disappointed this time.
Good. She's learning.
I read line by line, verifying:
Budget cap validations: Ensured none could shift unaccounted funds.
Clearance levels: Carefully tiered. No one but me and Christiana had access to Level-6, the top.
Chain of command: Strict and clean. Every channel led back to me.
Then, I stopped.
"Regional Minister of Agriculture – Yusuf Banes – Granted autonomous trade privileges with non-Blackwood border regions."
My eyes narrowed. "Who approved this line?"
I tapped a button. "Christiana. Back in here. Now."
Seconds later, she returned—composed, tablet in hand. "Yes, Father?"
I pointed to the line. "Why does this man have autonomous trade rights? That's a crack in the currency control system."
She tensed. "He requested it as a countermeasure for food shortages in Zone Delta-4. Said centralized distribution is slowing down response time."
"That's because Delta-4 is full of corrupt local lords still living in nostalgia for the old kingdoms." I locked eyes with her. "You give a single minister autonomous trade rights, and what happens next? They open channels. Blackwood Credits start leaking into foreign manipulation schemes. Next thing you know, we're investigating a currency riot."
She nodded quickly. "Understood. I'll revoke that line."
"No," I said, raising a hand. "He stays. But take this down: his office will be directly audited by Henry's division. No offshore transactions. No stockpiling of goods. Every shipment gets an internal escort. If he sneezes too loudly, I want his lungs on camera."
Christiana tapped it in fast.
I scanned the document one last time. "Fine. Now bring me the executive seal."
She moved to the vault and retrieved the metal cylinder—pure obsidian, etched with the royal crest and the symbol of the Blackwood Union. Only one of its kind. Only I could use it.
I pressed my thumb to it. The biometric seal unlocked with a deep hum.
"Authorization code: God-Level—One," I said aloud.
A ring of golden light wrapped the document. The seal stamped itself with finality.
"It is done."
Christiana stared at the glowing file. "Should I schedule the announcement?"
I walked around the desk and placed a hand on her shoulder.
"Yes. Tomorrow morning. Royal Square. I want the world to hear it directly from you." I gave her a small nod. "You're the Dictator. Make them believe in your power—but remind them who it came from."
She smiled faintly. "They'll never forget."
As she left, I turned to the security feed in the corner.
"Henry," I said, knowing he was always listening.
"Yes, Your Majesty," his voice came through immediately.
"Start covert surveillance on all new appointees. I want personal profiles, habits, weaknesses, allies, vices. Feed me everything. I don't appoint pawns—I groom kings. And if any of them even think of betrayal…"
"They'll be erased," Henry said without emotion.
I smiled.
"Exactly."
I leaned back in my chair, eyes once more scanning the city skyline.
The Blackwood Union was expanding.
And with every breath it took—
It would echo my will.