The Director hurried down the hall, each step deliberate and focused. As he reached the locker, his hand automatically reached for the Desert Eagle, its familiar weight grounding him. He suited up in his green and black armor, leaving the suit and tie behind as if shedding his old skin. Today wasn't about formalities—it was about action.
Once dressed, he made his way to the teleportation pad. The flash of light whisked him away, and in seconds, he was standing atop the Great Hall of the People in Beijing. His eyes traced the skyline, the city sprawling beneath him. Quiet for now, but not for long.
