"Supreme One, please wait a moment."
At the gates of the luxurious villa.
Selena, dressed in black and holding a parasol, suddenly stepped forward to block Alex from entering.
"What is it, Selena?"
Alex cast a curious glance at her.
"Allow my people to conduct a routine inspection first," Selena said solemnly.
Although following Alex hadn't been Selena's original intention, now that she had chosen to, she carried out her duties with full dedication.
"No need for that."
Alex waved it off with a smile. With his enhanced hearing, he could tell there was no one lying in ambush inside.
A quick scan with his X-ray vision confirmed the absence of bombs, bugs, or any other kind of surveillance equipment.
As expected. After all, he didn't have that many enemies, and this was the first time he'd moved into this location. No way anyone would've gotten to it already.
"Supreme One, ensuring your safety is my top priority. Please allow me to do my job," Selena insisted. "It won't take long."
"…Fine."
Seeing the stubborn look on her face, Alex could only shrug.
It was just a few minutes. He could wait.
Selena didn't waste any more words. With a nod to her subordinates, four of them quickly entered the villa to begin the sweep.
The remaining two stayed behind with Selena, standing guard beside Alex.
It was worth noting—aside from Selena, the rest were all humans. Loyal, well-trained agents under her vampire lineage's command.
At Alex's request, of course.
Living with a bunch of vampires? That'd be way too weird.
What?
Selena's a vampire too?
Come on, not all vampires are the same!
"This is a bit over the top, don't you think, Hank?"
Raven leaned over and whispered to Hank, a little overwhelmed by the entourage.
"Ahem, Raven, let's wait until we're inside."
Hank adjusted his glasses uncomfortably. He wasn't fond of criticizing others in public—especially not their bodyguards. The whole situation just felt… strange.
He still felt like he was dreaming.
How did Alex end up as the supreme leader of an undead bloodline?
And they're calling him… Supreme One?
Unbelievable.
While Hank was still lost in thought, the vampires returned from their inspection and nodded to Selena.
Selena turned to Alex and respectfully gestured. "Supreme One, it's safe. You may enter."
Alex led Hank and Raven into the spacious, opulent villa.
Selena and the others automatically dispersed to take up watch positions around the property.
They didn't intrude or get in the way.
They knew their place.
"Wow! Alex, is this going to be our new home?!"
Raven's eyes lit up with excitement. She was practically bouncing with joy at the sight of the lavish interior.
"Raven, it's Alex's home. We're just guests," Hank said, clearly thrilled too, though much more reserved.
"No, Hank," Alex said, smiling. "This is our home."
He waved at them. "Go pick your rooms."
The two of them took off happily.
Meanwhile, Alex strolled over to the balcony. A gentle breeze drifted through the open window as sunlight streamed in. Outside, flowers and greenery filled the garden.
He let out a satisfied breath.
This would be his base for now.
From here, a new journey would begin.
---
CIA Headquarters
Conference Room
The long conference table was packed. Alongside Director Hansen sat representatives from various departments—many of whom had appeared at that earlier Department of Defense roundtable.
In short, a room full of heavyweights.
All eyes were now on a lone female agent seated at the far end.
Moira.
"Moira, tell us what happened in Cuba. Who sank the fleets of both the U.S. and the Soviets?"
Director Hansen's eyes were like daggers as he stared her down.
"Cuba? Director, what do you mean? I've… been to Cuba?" Moira blinked, her face full of confusion. "I'm sorry. For some reason… I can't recall anything from the past few days."
"You don't remember? Are you saying you've lost your memory?" Hansen's brow furrowed so tightly it looked like an angry crumpled napkin.
In front of all these department heads?
Moira, are you seriously making me look bad right now?
"I think… yes. I don't know what's wrong with my head, but my memory is just blank."
Her serious tone gave Hansen pause. She didn't seem to be lying.
Then a thought struck him.
He remembered—among those mutants, there was one who could control minds.
Could it be… that mutant wiped Moira's memory?
It would make sense. If he had sunk those fleets, of course he wouldn't want to leave any evidence behind.
Someone like Moira—an intelligence officer—would've been eliminated a thousand times over.
Yet she was alive.
Which meant the other side was confident she couldn't expose them.
Her memory had been erased!
Hansen's expression darkened. That had to be it.
He explained the mind-controlling mutant to the other bigwigs in the room.
They weren't fools. The logic was sound. Otherwise, why would Moira still be alive?
"Yes, erasing memories… that's within his power. But what do you remember?"
Hansen asked, though he wasn't holding out much hope.
"Just… flashes," Moira said quietly, straining to recall. "A tree. Sunlight. A kiss…"
"God…"
A few high-ranking officials nearly swore out loud.
That's what she remembered? What kind of useless flashbacks were these?
A kiss, seriously? Now of all times?
Romantic fool.
No doubt about it. The CIA had come up empty-handed.
Before this meeting, everyone had come prepared. There were even contingency plans drafted to respond the moment it was confirmed that mutants were behind the destruction.
But in the end…
Nothing. Not a shred of usable intel.
Mutants were crafty, no doubt about it.
With Moira's memory erased, the truth of what happened in Cuba was lost forever.
No one would ever know how those fleets sank.
And more than that—
The United States had become a laughingstock on the global stage.
"What do we tell the public?" someone finally asked after a long silence. "It's been days. The entire country is waiting for answers."
"The truth," said a military official bluntly. "We tell them the truth."
Everyone looked at each other. No one objected.
Because everyone knew what "truth" meant.
Only mutants could take the blame for what happened in Cuba. The public needed an outlet. This was the only option.
Whether or not it was the actual truth—who cared anymore?
"The truth?" Moira frowned. "With all due respect, sir, you're suggesting we tell the public that mutants sank our fleets? That's unconfirmed! How can we call that the truth?"
"Director Hansen, get your agent under control," the general said coldly, ignoring Moira entirely.
"Moira, that'll be all. You're dismissed," Hansen said quickly, ushering her out.
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