Alright, people," William said, his voice steady as he addressed the assembled leaders in the conference room of their orbital station. The walls were adorned with digital screens displaying live feeds from the vaults. "We're just about out of time. Soon as the bombs start falling, we need to get our people down to the vaults and seal them up tight. But first, we need to decide what we're going to call ourselves."
The room buzzed with ideas, each member proposing names that reflected their ambitions and ideals. "How about the Enclave? A new order rising from the chaos," one leader suggested, his voice dripping with enthusiasm.
William frowned, sensing the implications of the name. The Enclave had its roots in the old government—a relic of a failed past. "No," he said firmly. "We need something that represents us, something that doesn't tie us to the old world."
Alex chimed in, "What about the Commonwealth? A new nation, rising from the ashes."
"NO!" William shouted, his voice booming through the room. "We need something tougher. Something that commands loyalty to a cause."
The tension in the room thickened as silence fell. All eyes turned to William, waiting for him to formulate a new idea. As he leaned back in his chair, a predatory grin spread across his face. "How about the Crimson Legion? An elite paramilitary force forged in the fires of war, ready to take control. No mercy, no compromise—just pure, unyielding power."
The name electrified the atmosphere, igniting a fire in the hearts of those assembled. It encapsulated their determination to rise from the ashes and seize control of their destiny. As the murmurs of approval swept through the room, Alex couldn't help but feel a thrill of pride.
Yet, amidst the excitement, a nagging doubt lingered in the back of William's mind. He couldn't shake the feeling that they needed to be more than just a force of power—they needed a purpose, a guiding principle that would unite them in the face of adversity.