Inside the Directorate Headquarters London, photojournalists aimed their cameras at Mr. London.
He settled his arms on the lectern, staring confidently at the photographers and corporate media staff. Three tall individuals stood behind him. All three of them were over seven feet, clad in golden exosuits with oversized pistols strapped to their thighs. The normal pistols were too small, and the recoils too insignificant.
The crisp clicks of cameras and subtle shuffles of shoes across the floorboards filled the room.
Mr. London cleared his throat, and the room fell silent. Every camera was waiting for his first words.
The world was watching.
"I stand here today, not as a prince of Britain but simply as Mr. London, a member of the Council. You all know us. You know what the Council has done to maintain order. The risks our agents have been taking, fighting against those willing to abuse their powers and the remnants of Cain's Fanatics."
