The eastern division was already falling apart.
Franko saw it the moment he walked in.
No need for reports. No need for introductions.
The tension in the air said everything.
Employees moved quickly, but without direction. Conversations overlapped, voices low but urgent. Screens flashed with unstable numbers, red indicators spreading like a slow infection.
Disorder.
Not loud.
But dangerous.
A man in a grey suit approached him, clearly irritated. "You're the one they sent?"
Franko glanced at him briefly. "Yes."
The man frowned. "Then you came too late."
Franko didn't stop walking. "No," he said calmly. "You're just used to losing."
That shut him up.
Inside the main operations room, things were worse.
Arguments.
Confusion.
Contradictions.
Different teams pushing different solutions, none of them aligned.
Franko stood at the center for a moment, observing.
Then the system flickered.
[Prediction Sync Activated]
[Conflict Nodes Identified]
[Optimal Intervention Path Calculated]
Voices blurred for a second.
Movements slowed.
Patterns formed.
Then—
Everything became clear.
Franko stepped forward.
"Stop."
His voice wasn't loud.
But it cut through the noise instantly.
Some turned. Others ignored him.
One of the managers snapped, "Now is not the time—"
Franko grabbed a nearby tablet and projected the data onto the main screen.
"Then this is the time you start listening."
Silence spread, slow but steady.
He pointed at the display. "Your losses aren't the problem."
Confused looks.
"What?" someone asked.
Franko didn't waste time. "Your structure is."
He shifted the screen, highlighting multiple sectors.
"You're reacting to symptoms," he continued. "Not the source."
The grey-suited man from earlier stepped forward again. "And you think you understand it better than all of us?"
Franko looked at him directly.
"Yes."
That answer should have caused backlash.
But it didn't.
Because his tone carried no arrogance.
Only certainty.
He moved quickly now.
"Cut this sector," he said, marking it instantly. "Redirect resources here. Shut down external exposure for the next six hours."
"That's too extreme," someone argued.
Franko shook his head. "No. What you've been doing is too weak."
Another protest started—
But stopped.
Because the numbers on the screen updated in real time.
One of the analysts froze. "Wait…"
Everyone turned.
"The loss rate… it's slowing."
Silence hit again.
This time, heavier.
Franko didn't pause.
"Continue execution," he said. "Full alignment. No independent decisions."
No one argued now.
Orders began moving.
Fast.
Clean.
Controlled.
Within minutes, the chaos started to settle.
Not completely.
But enough.
The same manager who challenged him earlier spoke again, this time quieter. "How did you see that so fast?"
Franko didn't answer immediately.
He just looked at the stabilized data.
"Because I wasn't guessing," he said.
Across the room, people exchanged looks.
Something had changed.
Respect.
Not given.
Earned.
The system flickered again.
[Phase 1 Complete]
[Stability: 32% → 61%]
Franko's eyes narrowed slightly.
Faster than expected.
Good.
He turned toward the room.
"This isn't over," he said. "But now it's under control."
No one questioned him this time.
As he stepped back, the tension in the room shifted completely.
Not panic anymore.
Not confusion.
Direction.
And for the first time since the collapse began…
They had it.
Franko looked at the screen one last time.
Everything was moving exactly as it should.
One day?
No.
He was already ahead of that.