The Oval Office was unusually warm that evening. Not from the lights, but from the mood—confident, indulgent, assured. A buoyant verve filled the room as the future was laid out for him in careful steps.
President Hampton listened without interruption. The plan required very little from him. No speeches. No resistance. Only patience while the world was rearranged around his silhouette.
They spoke of markets stabilizing, borders “correcting”, unrest dissolving into gratitude. Every outcome arrived neatly labeled as inevitable. He smiled at the efficiency of it.
He did not ask who would fall, or how many. Only how long it would take—and what would be waiting for him when the last pieces settled.
Publicly, he would sit the throne. Privately, his only obligation was to enjoy it — as long as he remained loyal.