In a dimly lit eting room sowhere in Arica, thirteen shadowy projections sat around a red-haired middle-aged man.
"Let's begin the formal evaluation of Mr. R's negligence!"
The projection at the head of the table spoke with a tone laced with scrutiny.
"Mr. R, do you admit to the major error at Crystal Lake Base in May, which caused the organization to lose a research facility worth billions of dollars?"
Mr. R's face was taut as he responded.
"Yes, Chairman."
"And do you admit that a month ago, in Washington State, you caused the loss of a valuable contained object and over a hundred rcenaries?"
Mr. R didn't deny it.
"Yes, Chairman."
"Mr. R, do you wish to defend yourself?"
"Yes, Chairman. I'd like to present the video evidence I risked my life to obtain."
Mr. R opened the laptop in front of him and uploaded a video file to the shared system for the thirteen council mbers to view.
The unedited footage captured everything: Roy Black using his fear domain to take down rcenaries and the final mont when the Light of Heaven sent Leviathan away.
The council watched intently, and for a long ti, no one spoke.
Finally, the Chairman broke the silence.
"Mr. R, is this video authentic?"
"Yes, Chairman. It's unedited, with no special effects—straight from the scene. Council mbers, the man in the video, Roy Black, is the key figure responsible for my two major failures. I believe losses were unavoidable against an opponent like him."
The thirteen council mbers muted their microphones and discussed privately, leaving Mr. R out of the conversation.
After half an hour, the Chairman unmuted and addressed Mr. R.
"Based on the evidence you provided, the Council has determined that you are not primarily responsible for these two incidents. However, you still bear secondary responsibility. The Council has decided to demote your clearance to Level B and strip you of your current position."
Mr. R's face showed no emotion.
"I accept the Council's decision."
"I hope you reflect on your actions and avoid similar mistakes in the future."
With that, the hours-long evaluation eting ended. The projections vanished, and Mr. R was escorted out by guards.
Back in his room, Mr. R's expression darkened.
"Damn it! Those idiots! How can they bla when facing an enemy like that? What was I supposed to do? I gave so much for that cabin—Who's knocking?!"
Mr. R was venting when he heard urgent knocking. The room's soundproofing was excellent, so he wasn't worried about being overheard.
Opening the door, he saw his blonde secretary, Amara, standing there, her usual flattery gone.
"R, you're now a Level B employee. You've been ordered to vacate this room."
The shift in her attitude was stark, re minutes after his demotion.
Mr. R was skilled at hiding his emotions, his face betraying nothing.
"I'm packing and will move out soon."
"You'd better. The new Level A manager is moving in shortly."
Clearly, Amara was eager to serve the new manager, which explained her haste to evict him.
Mr. R's eyes grew cold, but his expression remained unchanged.
"Half an hour is all I need."
"Hmph, I'll be back to check in thirty minutes!"
Amara swayed off, leaving Mr. R seething with resentnt.
"Just wait. You'll pay for betraying !"
---
In Burbank, Los Angeles County, at the headquarters of the Arican Broadcasting Company (ABC), the morning buzz was in full swing. As one of Arica's top three broadcasters, the workplace was a pressure cooker of ambition.
Employees darted around, everyone swamped with tasks.
A blonde woman sauntered into the office, her tall fra and stunning looks drawing every man's gaze and plenty of envious glares from won. She was used to it and paid no mind. To her, those jealous stares ca from losers.
"Marian, the manager wants to see you!"
A middle-aged man greeted her, one of the few unaffected by her charm.
Marian, the blonde, frowned. She was the sa reporter saved by Roy Black during a helicopter crash in the Cosmic Demon incident.
It had been nearly six months since then. Marian and the other two crew mbers from the crash had recovered and returned to work.
(Marian gan, played by Charlize Theron)
"Mike, what does that old creep want now?"
Mike nearly choked at her bluntness.
"Pfft! Keep it down! If soone hears you, they'll snitch!"
"Hmph! It's the truth. Everyone at the station knows it. Whatever, I'll go see him."
Marian rolled her eyes and headed to the manager's office.
Knock, knock, knock!
"Co in!"
Inside, the manager—whom Marian called the old creep—was watching a video. His eyes locked onto her figure the mont she entered.
Marian's brow furrowed slightly, but she said nothing.
"Manager, you wanted to see ?"
"Oh, yes! I've got a very important task, and I'm considering whether to give it to you."
He emphasized "important" and "you," hinting heavily.
Marian's frown deepened. She'd dealt with this manager enough to know he'd been after her for a while, always dropping hints to get closer.
But Marian wasn't the type to trade her body for a promotion. She preferred earning her place through skill.
Plus, the manager was far too unattractive for her standards.
Pretending not to catch his hint, she replied directly.
"Manager, I can handle any important task!"
He winked repeatedly, making his intentions painfully obvious.
"No, no, Marian, you're not getting it. I decide who gets this task. I say who's capable, and who isn't. Understand?"
He stepped closer, reaching out a sleazy hand.
Marian couldn't take it anymore. If that hand touched her, she'd be nauseated for days, swearing off at for months.
"Sorry, Manager, I don't like greasy pork. Can you back off?"
The manager's face fell, full of regret.
"What a sha. I was going to let you interview the new Olympic champion, Roy Black. Since you're not interested, I'll give it to Gretchen."
Gretchen's na sounded like Jean Grey, the X-n's Phoenix, but she was another anchor at the station, Marian's direct rival and sworn enemy.
(Gretchen, played by Nicole Kidman)
Your worst enemy often knows you best.
Marian knew Gretchen well enough to be sure she wouldn't stoop to sleeping with the manager for a story. The manager was likely using Gretchen's na to goad her.
He'd probably already been rejected by Gretchen and was now trying his luck with Marian.
Realizing this, Marian dropped all pretense of politeness.
"Fine, go give it to Gretchen!"
She stord out, slamming the door behind her.
Not long after, she ran into her dedicated caraman, Franklin, a young Black man who was one of the few unfazed by her looks. His taste leaned toward fuller figures, and Marian was too slender for him.
"Hey, Marian, did the manager call you over for a gig?"
Marian crossed her arms, her face full of disdain.
"That old creep tried to pull sothing, but I shut him down."
Franklin scratched his head. Though she'd rejected the task, he was curious.
"What was the task?"
"He wanted to interview that Olympic boxing champion, Roy Black!"
Franklin's eyes widened, his reaction intense.
"Him?!"
Marian was puzzled by his excitent. She didn't care for violent sports like boxing and had no idea who Roy Black was.
"Marian, don't you rember? Back in March, before our chopper crashed, we fild that guy. That was Roy Black!"
Marian froze, her mind flashing back to March. She thought she'd been live-broadcasting a huge story, only to learn the feed had been cut off.
A group called the Federal Response Agency had forced her, Franklin, and Mike to sign NDAs, barring them from discussing what happened.
Oh, and Marian had secretly recorded Roy transforming into an angel.
Sadly, before she could leak the explosive footage, she was forced to sign the NDA, locking the video away.
An idea sparked in her mind.
Franklin was still lanting.
"Mike and I are big fans of Roy Black. If we could interview him, maybe we'd get a signed photo! But Roy doesn't do many interviews. Only Keller Evans from The Los Angeles Tis gets his exclusives."
"Then let's do it ourselves, Franklin. We'll interview Roy Black off the books!"
Franklin's eyes bulged.
"What?! Marian, are you serious? If the manager finds out…"
"Look at this!"
Marian pulled a recorder from her pocket and waved it.
"I knew that creep was up to no good, so I ca prepared. If he tries anything, this goes to the police!"
This was before the Too movent. Even if Marian took down the manager, finding new work would be tough.
Who'd hire soone who carried a recorder? It was asking for trouble.
It was a desperate move, one she'd only use as a last resort.
Franklin hesitated. Marian had her recorder, but he and Mike had no such protection.
Seeing his doubt, Marian reassured him.
"Relax, Franklin. I've got a plan to get a big scoop from Roy Black. If we land a blockbuster story, the manager will look the other way!"
At ABC's news division, the priority was breaking explosive stories. So stations even bugged the British Pri Minister's residence for scoops. By comparison, Marian was a saint.
Franklin muttered, "That's what you said last ti."
Last ti was March. Another manager had ordered Marian to evacuate, but she stayed, leading to the crash. They nearly died, only saved by Roy.
By the way, that manager died in the Devil's Late Night Show incident, not the sa guy as now.
"This ti, no helicopters. It'll be safe!"
Franklin, ever the pushover in their trio, caved to Marian's persuasion.
"The problem now is finding Roy Black."
Marian propped her chin, thinking. If the manager was using the interview as bait, he likely had secured the rights and set a ti. Without those, Marian needed to track Roy down herself.
Mike, who'd been listening, piped up.
"I know where! Roy Black's reporting to UCLA tomorrow. He'll be on campus. We can stake out the entrance, but I bet plenty of others will try to catch him too."
Marian gave Mike a curious look.
"How'd you know that?"
Mike scratched his head, sheepish.
"I'm a boxing fan, and I follow Roy Black online. I keep tabs on his schedule!"
Mike clearly wanted a signed photo too—those were rare, mostly owned by Roy's early fans. With Nidi's black-frad glasses, Roy was hard to spot these days.
Marian nodded.
"Perfect! This ti, I'm getting that explosive story!"
Marian and Gretchen both hailed from Bombshell, but Marian also had a touch of The Devil's Advocate.
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