Chapter Title: The Absolute Command

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Chris's POV – Voice of the Supreme

The throne room of the Sky Palace had never felt this heavy—not even during war declarations or coronation nights. Chris sat alone in his obsidian seat, carved from the stone of the first Blackwood conquest, draped in silence. But his eyes—sharp, calculating—carried the storm.

He pressed a button on the throne's armrest. A secure line buzzed.

"Dictator Christiana," he said, his voice low but lined with thunder. "Summon every staff member. Now. I want them all in the grand courtyard within the next thirty minutes."

A short silence. Then her voice replied—steely, unwavering, but laced with curiosity.

"Everyone, Father?"

Chris didn't blink.

"Everyone. No exceptions. I don't care if they're generals or janitors, personal chefs or intelligence officers. Even the security guards, tech maintenance, gardeners, gate men, and the underground cyber units. Every living soul under this palace—every soul under me—will leave their post and come here."

"Yes, Supreme." She didn't argue.

He ended the transmission and stood, pacing slowly toward the vast windows overlooking the central courtyard below.

This was more than a meeting.

It was a reminder.

Too many had grown comfortable. Too many believed power was theirs simply because they served beneath his banner. But they forgot who built this empire with blood, foresight, and absolute rule.

They forgot the weight of being ruled by a god.

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Twenty-five minutes later...

The courtyard roared with footsteps and murmurs as thousands of staff gathered—rows upon rows stretching from palace walls to the base of the outer towers. Soldiers in full gear stood beside maids in uniforms, engineers next to elite guards. Even the gatemen, dirt on their sleeves, looked around with confusion and awe.

Christiana stood at the front, arms folded, eyes sweeping the crowd with surgical precision. She turned as Chris stepped out onto the balcony, the crowd instantly silencing itself.

And then he spoke, voice echoing through speakers and the very bones of the structure.

"You all enjoy safety, comfort, and privilege because you serve beneath my roof. But do not mistake your roles for entitlement."

He stepped forward.

"This empire runs because I allow it. Not because you wake up and wear your uniforms. Not because you perform your duty. Because I have not replaced you."

He let the words sink.

"You eat because I say so. You live because I allow it. And today—this hour—was meant to remind you of that fact."

Mouths went dry. Some shifted uncomfortably. Even high-ranking officers avoided his gaze.

"I built a world where the sun rises with my approval and the moon does not shine unless I permit it."

He raised a hand.

"And yet... I have shown mercy. I have offered luxury. But mercy is not weakness. And loyalty is not optional."

Christiana watched, stone-faced. But deep within, she knew: this was a warning. And it was necessary.

Chris looked over the masses one last time.

"Let this moment be burned into your memory. When you return to your duties—remember who you serve."

He turned and left, the silence he left behind louder than any war drum.

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