He closed the holographic interface, the soft blue light fading from his dimly lit room.
The power struggles of the United Government, the internal bleeding of the Alpha Corporation, and the missing heroes on the moon, made him somewhat intrigued but it wasn't enough.
He was legally a dead man, and dead men didn't have to save the world.
Right now, his only priority was building a foundation that couldn't be easily uprooted. The factory was step one.
The next morning, at the heavily guarded perimeter of the lawless zone, a sleek black hover-car slowly descended.
A middle-aged man in a sharp suit stepped out, dabbing the sweat from his forehead with a silk handkerchief.
He was the representative for the owner of the abandoned factory district. Or rather, it was the disguise that the real representative had taken for this meeting.
