Steven Coulson drops heavily into a chair.

  “Okay, guys. Empowered are the hot new thing and as the premier private security company, we want them. If we don’t get them, we don’t stay on top. Lay it on me.”

  “We’re hitting most of the metrics we want. We’re mostly pulling in 1-Stars, but we managed to grab two 3-Stars.”

  “How much?”

  “They’re both asking for 4 million a year.”

  “That’s fine. I know a guy who’ll hire one for ten times that. What about the big tickets?”

  The table looks uneasy. One of them speaks up nervously.

  “Well, uh, no bites on anything above 3-Star.”

  He narrows his eyes at the messenger of bad news.

  “Nothing? We’re worth nearly a hundred billion dollars and we can’t pull in even a single 4-Star?”

  “Y-y-es. We’ve tri—”

  “You’re fired, get the fuck out of here.”

  He stands up, slamming his hands on the desk.

  “I want results, people! 4-Stars are strategic weapons, not people and I want one! I want them all!”

  He snaps his fingers and points at someone.

  “You! How’s the work on Machina coming? Since that spat with the Senate a couple days ago he might be free. How’s it working out?”

  “Uh, we’re almost ready to approach him. The analysts are finalizing the plan. We’ll be ready in two days.” The man says frantically.

  “Approach him tomorrow! I want to be first on this! I’m sure we’re not going to be alone in wanting one of the most powerful men on the planet on payroll. Let’s move it people!”

  President Song of the Republic of Korea looks around the meeting table with a grim look.

  “Let me state this clearly. We need Machina. Our nation is falling apart without the firepower and strength of High-Starred Empowered. Yangsan’s refusal was the straw that broke the camel’s back.”

  His gaze lands on an Army Captain.

  “Captain Hwang, do you think you can recruit him? You know him best, out of anyone here.”

  She weakly shrugs, deep bags under her eyes. Her exhausted look is shared among every single one of the men and women around the table.

  “I don’t know. I can try.”

  President Song tiredly nods.

  “Offer him anything he wants. Go, quickly. Time is of the essence.”

  Captain Hwang hurries out of the room.

  Awet Berhane, self-proclaimed Emperor of the burgeoning Empire of the Sun looks down on his council from his ornate throne. A dozen advisors are spread out in front him, like students in a classroom. His Ascended Vassals Vizier and Khalid ibn al-Walid sit at the center of a long, arcing table.

  “A man like him would further our power. It would make us unstoppable. We want him.”

  An advisor leans forward.

  “He may not be easy to recruit. Money may not be enough. Despite our wealth, Your Highness, I’m not sure we can afford to outbid hegemons like the United States or mega-corporations.”

  Emperor Berhane dismissively waves a hand.

  “A man like that doesn’t need to be given money, if he wanted wealth he could simply take it. We can offer him… more. Power. Control.”

  He lazily lounges on his throne.

  “The world is a large place, and we’re nothing if not generous to our loyal vassals. We can carve off a chunk for him. If he cares for his homeland so much, we’ll give it to him.”

  A self-satisfied smile crawls across his face.

  “Just look at what they did to him. They tried to slow down one of their betters. While filling out his purpose, no less. We’ll give him control of what he wants.”

  Vizier slowly nods.

  “Yes… that should work. He’s like me. He seeks to bring order to chaos, to throw off the chains of a broken world. To defend his homeland, he’ll need to make sure it doesn’t get in his way. We’ll give him that.”

  This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.

  He stands up.

  “With your permission, my liege, I’ll speak to him personally.”

  Emperor Berhane mulls it over.

  “No, we need you here. The Sudan Province is still… unruly. It needs your touch. Send someone you trust.”

  Vizier bows.

  “Thy will be done, my liege.”

  Emperor Berhane waves him away.

  “Go, before others steal him away from us.”

  As Vizier retreats, he looks over his council.

  “Now, with our neighbors pacified, what shall be our next conquest?”

  President Drayson looks around at his Cabinet.

  “Right, folks. How do we approach Machina? I’m sure he’s a little… wary, given the events have transpired just a few days ago. I’m sure more than just us will be reaching out in time— assuming they haven’t already, that is.”

  He glowers.

  “I hate to say it folks, but we need him. We’re looking weak right now, and what happened to the Republic of Korea could happen to us. We need him, whether in actuality or impression. I’m opening the floor to ideas.”

  Johnathan Cook, his Secretary of Defense, taps the table to get the President’s attention.

  “Patriotism?”

  Archer Rutherford, the Secretary of Homeland Security, snorts.

  “Yeah, right. I’m not sure there’s many people who’d bite for that. Especially not after what Senator Redding just pulled. Let’s just pay him. I’m sure we can afford to outbid anyone else.”

  Andrea Hassau, Director of the CIA chips in.

  “There’s always the possibility of non-monetary payment. We’re the United States of the America. We have more reach than anyone. There must be something out there he wants.”

  Director Holden frowns. While her attendance to Cabinet meetings is unusual, President Drayson specifically asked for her, given the NSA’s ultra-deep dive into Machina’s life. She nudges Secretary Cook, her superior, before whispering to him. He nods, and taps the table.

  “Director Holden of the NSA has something for us.”

  She stands up from her position along the edge of the room.

  “I don’t think anything mentioned here so far would work. For a multitude of reasons. My suggestion is to ask him for help.”

  Director Hassau balks at the suggestion.

  “We don’t ask—”

  President Drayson raises his hand before pointing at Holden.

  “Director, please continue.”

  “We’ve run his life through a sieve. We’ve discreetly spoken to extended family, friends, fellow students and teachers. We know more about him than he does. How much detail would you like?”

  “As much as you feel is necessary for your point, Director.”

  “Machina, originally Seth Ryans, is twenty-two years old. Born in Eureka, California to Erica and Brandon Ryans. Erica was a firefighter as well as a National Guard Reservist. Brandon was a surgical tech who moonlighted as an EMT. Seth went to the Colorado School of Mines for mechanical engineering. He was only there for a year and a half before his parents were killed in a car accident. They were on their way to pick him up from a local airport.”

  Her eyes breeze over the meeting participants, looking for questions. Finding none, she continues.

  “After that, he dropped out. None of his friends at School of Mines have heard from him since. He sold his parents’ house and has been on a series of vacations across the globe. He’s spent time in Sweden, France, Germany, England, China, Japan, Australia, and most recently, Korea.

  “As for why I don’t think money would convince him: Over the past year and a half he’s spent money like water. He’s had little care for material comforts. Mostly spending money on the bare necessities for travel. Airplane tickets and long-term hotels make up the bulk of his expenditures. Furthermore, interviews conducted with his friends have shown a… disdain for the ultra wealthy, shall we say.”

  A grim look crosses her face.

  “If he wanted money, he could just take it. He’s shown himself to have informational and cyberwarfare capabilities beyond anything humanity is currently capable of. The day Machina was reported to have woken up, Jovian Telecom reported an extremely localized hack on a few of their satellites. Specifically, a constellation of satellites over South Korea. At the same time, several dozen websites that contained information on the Korean language were hit with massive Distributed Denial of Service attacks. At least, with what were assumed to be DDOS attacks. My analysts believe that it was Machina teaching himself the language.

  “If he wants something in the digital realm, he owns it. I am not convinced there is anyone, anywhere, can do anything to stop him from breaking into anything connected to the internet.”

  President Drayson drums his fingers on the table in front of him.

  “And you think simply asking him will work?”

  “Yes. Over the past month since The Apotheosis he has shown a zeal for putting down monsters as fast as possible. He has cleared more Fractures than any team or person on the planet. Between his durability and destructive capabilities, nothing has done anything more than slow him down.”

  Director Hassau of the CIA taps the table and laughs.

  “What, you’re telling me we just ask one of the most powerful people in the world for help? And he will?”

  “Yes, exactly.” Holden agrees.

  “Why?”

  “Because he thinks it’s the right thing to do.”

  “Others will ask for his help. How do we make sure he helps us?”

  Holden smiles.

  “Offer him everything he needs. Heavy lift aircraft, rapid transit. Make him the center of the United States’ effort in stopping the oncoming monster apocalypse.”

  “And if he wants to help overseas?”

  Holden shrugs.

  “Then let him do it, but on our dime. We aren’t the only nation with heavy lift capacity. If we don’t help him, someone will. If we offer to help him, he will help us. You want him on our side? This is how we do it. With an open hand and no leash.

  “Consider this plan a two-fold approach. We get Machina onboard and working with us again, as well as project strength. I’m sure all of you are aware of the noise Palisade Security has been making in recent days. Redding’s fiasco cost us more than he’ll ever know.”

  President Drayson drums his fingers on the table again.

  “Alright. That’s how we’ll play it.”

  He looks at Holden.

  “Director Holden, you know him best. Who should talk to him?”

  “Myself, Mr. President. I know him best, like you said.”

  He puts his hands on the table and stands up.

  “Alright, I think that’s that. Director Holden, please meet with Machina as soon as possible.”

  She nods.

  “Right away, Mr. President. I’ll go tonight.”