Ethan hung up with a playful chuckle. "I’ll be waiting..." he murmured, his thumb swiping the screen dark.

He continued down the hall toward the executive conference room, but his phone buzzed again. He laughed to himself, shaking his head. "It seems I’m quite the popular man today."

It was Lilly. Her voice was bright, though there was a hint of nerves behind it as she reminded him that her mother’s birthday party was this Saturday. She was calling to see if he was still coming.

"Of course I’ll be there, Lilly," Ethan said, his tone softening into that of a devoted lover. "I wouldn’t miss it for the world."

"You better not," Lilly replied, her voice dropping into a mock-serious pout. "And listen, Ethan... don’t bring any of your other ’vixens’ with you. I know you’ve got plenty, but I want this day to be about my mom... and me. Okay?"

Ethan let out a rich laugh, imagining her expression. "I promise. Just you and your mom. I’ll be on my best behavior."

Ethan hung up and pushed open the heavy oak doors of the boardroom. Governor Thompson was already seated, and beside him stood his son, Max. The air in the room was stiff. Max looked visibly uncomfortable, shifting his weight as Ethan approached.

Instead of a cold greeting, Ethan walked right up to Max and pulled him into a brief, friendly embrace. "Max, good to see you. Listen, I wanted to apologize for the last time we spoke. We were running some... experimental trials with a new medicine, and frankly, my system was completely out of whack. I was irrational and far too aggressive. I truly regret hurting Hailey and causing so much friction between us. It won’t happen again."

Max blinked, surprised by the sudden warmth. A small, relieved smile touched his lips. "It’s... it’s okay, Ethan. We all have bad days. I’m just glad you’re back to yourself." He hesitated, his expression flickering with concern. "But if it’s possible... could you go see Hailey? I can’t get in the middle of what you two have, but lately, she’s been... paranoid. She’s jumpy, scared of everything. She’s lost that spark she used to have. Even the mention of your name makes her shiver."

Max lowered his voice. "And to top it off, that prick Ryan Mitchell has been bothering her constantly at the university since you left."

Ethan’s eyes narrowed, a flash of coldness returning to his gaze. "I understand. I’ll go see her today. In fact, let’s head over right after this meeting."

In the back of his mind, Ethan felt a jolt of recognition. Ryan Mitchell. The name was identical to his brave logistics survivor, but this was a different ghost. This was the pathetic trust-fund brat who had tried to have him killed back in the early days. Between the war with the Unions and his Spirit Core breakthrough, Ethan had forgotten the worm even existed.

Crul, Ethan projected his thoughts into his neural link. Investigate his father’s businesses. If we already own them through our shell companies, shut them down. If not, initiate a hostile takeover. Use any charge—fraud, tax evasion, environmental violations—I don’t care. I want that entire family in the gutter by sunset.

[[ Processing... ]] Crul replied instantly. [[ Issuing orders to our financial subsidiaries now. The Mitchell estate will be liquidated within four hours. ]]

Ethan turned his attention back to the Governor, his face becoming a mask of professional curiosity. "So, Governor, to what do I owe the honor of this visit?"

The Governor leaned back in his leather chair, a slow, calculated smile spreading across his face. He looked years younger, his posture exuding a newfound authority.

"I came here to thank you in person, Ethan," Thompson began, his voice resonant with satisfaction. "I’ve become something of a ’Super Governor’ lately. I have full control over every state on the East Coast. My sponsors... they’ve displaced the opposition entirely. I am, quite literally, the most powerful man on the Atlantic seaboard—perhaps in the entire country."

Ethan raised an eyebrow, leaning back. "That’s a heavy crown to wear, Thompson. I imagine the view from the top is quite busy."

"It’s more than busy; it’s crowded," Thompson replied, his eyes narrowing. "Even President Harrison has been calling me. The President of the United States, asking *me* for favors. He’s been preaching about ’national unity’ and ’the greatness of America.’ He wants me to open the borders of the coastal states. He’s asking for free movement of citizens, labor exchange, and ’peaceful integration.’ He gave me a dozen noble reasons, but..."

"But you’re a shark, Thompson," Ethan interrupted with a smirk. "And you smell blood."

"Exactly," Thompson leaned forward, his voice dropping an octave. "I know there was a meeting in Washington. I don’t know the specifics of what was said behind those closed doors, but the timing is suspicious. Suddenly, they hand me the keys to the entire coast on a silver platter, and in the next breath, they’re begging me to open the gates? It feels like they’re trying to build a bridge into my territory so they can walk in and take it back."

Ethan nodded slowly. "And how did you respond to our ’esteemed’ President?"

"His people were relentless," Thompson chuckled, though there was no humor in it. "They kept appealing to my ego. They told me, *’Governor, you have the total authority. You are the architect of the new East. You don’t need to consult anyone. Just sign these border-liberation contracts and you’ll go down in history as the man who saved the Union.’*"

"A classic play," Ethan remarked.

"They pushed and pushed," Thompson continued. "But I told them flat out: *’I will speak with my superiors before making any structural decisions.’* You should have seen their faces, Ethan. They turned beet red. They kept insisting, *’But you ARE the Governor! You have the ultimate signature!’* I just looked them in the eye and told them that a wise man doesn’t build a house until he knows who owns the land. I’m not taking a single step until I have more data. I’m not opening those borders until I know exactly what game they’re playing."

Ethan stood up, walking over to the window. "You did the right thing. Harrison isn’t looking for ’unity.’ He’s looking for a way to let his hungry masses into our backyard because the rest of the country is collapsing under the weight of the Outsiders and the Unions. If you open those borders, you aren’t saving the country—you’re just inviting the plague into your own home."