Christiana's POV
They all think I'm silent.
Obedient.
That I've retreated into the shadows after Amara's display of dominance and Skylar's rebellion.
But shadows are where I thrive.
In this empire of gods, someone has to be the devil.
I watched from the monitor room, eyes on every corner of the palace—Skylar's lingering steps, Amara's frustration, Chris's icy resolve. Every move told a story. Every story gave me leverage.
And I was collecting all of it.
Amara thinks she's the only one who can play war.
Skylar thinks her voice is a weapon.
But what they don't realize is that empires are not shaken by words or weapons.
They're undone by whispers.
I sat with my most trusted aide, a faceless loyalist who only addressed me as 03, my empire ID. I no longer needed a name. I had something better—control.
"Activate Project Seraphim," I whispered.
The aide blinked, unsure. "That's meant for internal collapse…"
"Exactly."
Skylar's supporters needed to feel victory, just long enough to believe they were untouchable. Then, they would be exposed—publicly. Strategically. Brutally.
Amara? She would be busy chasing shadows.
And Chris… he was starting to crack. I saw it. Felt it.
He believed he still controlled the board.
But I was already flipping pieces.
I leaned forward, voice laced with a chilling calm. "Let them fight. Let them exhaust each other. When they're done…"
I smiled faintly.
"They'll all come crawling back to me."