The Third Corporate War

"You're referring to the third corporate war?" Clarke Higilton's voice carried a mix of curiosity and apprehension.

"It's a distinct possibility," Phill replied, his gaze turning distant as he contemplated the gravity of the situation. The room around them, a modestly furnished study in the heart of city, seemed to shrink under the weight of their conversation.

Clarke's father, his expression etched with concern, leaned forward. "I've heard through the grapevine that about a month ago, Harmony Mining unearthed something extraordinary on Pluto. This revelation somehow reached the ears of other T0 corporations. Currently, both Wieland Corporation and United Aerospace are lobbying the Federal Congress aggressively. They're demanding that Harmony Mining disclose whatever it is they've found."

Clarke leaned in, his interest piqued. "What exactly did they find?"

His father sighed, a look of resignation on his face. "That, my son, is beyond our clearance. Even obtaining this much information was a stroke of luck. But it's rumored to be non-human in origin, possibly linked to an alien civilization."

The revelation left Clarke momentarily speechless. Alien artifacts? This was not something he had ever come across in historical records. It echoed the clandestine causes of the second corporate war, sparked by the discovery of an alien spacecraft. Now, another conflict seemed to be brewing over alien ruins.

Clarke mulled over the implications, his mind racing. "So why do they want to meet with us? Are they seeking donations, or do they want our android forces?"

His father chuckled lightly. "Oh, Clarke. Our androids are barely sufficient against local gangs. They're no match for T0-level entities. Those corporations could easily deploy a swarm of drones capable of decimating entire provinces. No, they probably want to meet us to ensure our neutrality, to prevent us from becoming a liability in their larger schemes."

...

Later, their aerial vehicle glided smoothly into Skyrim City, heading toward Harmony Mining's towering branch building. The rooftop, already brimming with a spectrum of opulent vehicles, reflected the high stakes of the meeting. Below, three elegantly dressed individuals awaited their arrival.

"Stay close and speak sparingly," Clarke's father advised with a hint of unease before stepping out of the vehicle.

Upon their exit, the trio of well-dressed individuals approached with a mix of formality and warmth. A muscular man with shimmering, diamond-like prosthetic arms stepped forward, greeting Clarke's father Phill with a robust embrace. "Stone Man, always a pleasure."

Phill returned the gesture, albeit with a hint of reluctance. He then turned to greet the other two. "Mr. Jacobs, Mr. Quinn, good to see you both."

The others nodded in acknowledgment, their eyes flickering with a subtle, amiable recognition. The atmosphere, charged with unspoken agendas and veiled intentions, set the stage for the crucial discussions that lay ahead.

Clarke Higilton observed quietly from the background, swiftly piecing together the identities of the three figures before him. These individuals were clearly the senior executives of the Skynet Provincial Branch of Harmony Mining Company, likely in charge of the recent operations.

What struck Clarke as unusual was that these executives, unlike typical rich members, all sported prosthetic bodies – a rarity among the elite.

"Ah, and who might this be?" the imposing man turned, noticing Clarke's father, Phill, and appeared momentarily puzzled. "Is this another one of your sons?"

"There's no need for pretenses here," Phill responded with a wry smile.

The man's face lit up with recognition. "Of course! The nephew of Stroboscope, right? Your father and I were classmates. Just call me Samuel, Uncle Samuel."

"Uncle Samuel," Clarke greeted respectfully.

The other two executives cast curious glances at Clarke but remained largely silent.

As the conversation continued, the group, led by the three executives, made their way downstairs.

"Aren't we expecting the Lashvic and james families?" Clarke's father inquired.

"They've already arrived," Samuel replied with a grin. "Now, it's just your family that we're waiting for."

"Seems we're a bit late," Clarke's father commented dryly, then lowered his voice, "I heard the Rushford family sent a representative?"

"Yes, Director Larry from Rushford Nuclear Energy is representing the headquarters this time," Samuel confirmed, his smile slightly subdued. "A highly competent individual. Please show the utmost respect. Your son knows how to conduct himself, right?"

"Don't worry about it," Phill reassured, glancing at Clarke with a slightly stiff smile.

As they entered the top floor, the group quieted down and were ushered towards a lavish living room.

Without knocking, Samuel pushed the door open. Clarke followed the group inside, immediately greeted by the subtle aroma of flowers and tea.

The living room, spanning about a hundred square meters, was adorned in a traditional style that Clarke seldom encountered. Luxurious knitted carpets covered the floor, complemented by screens showcasing the works of renowned artists.

In the center, four mahogany sofas were arranged, three doubles and a singular sofa reserved for the most prestigious guest. At the heart of this arrangement was a glass-covered coffee table, elegantly decorated with floral arrangements, a thread of sandalwood, and a complete tea set.

"An aficionado of ancient culture, undoubtedly," Clarke thought to himself as he took a seat beside his father on the only available double sofa.

To his left and directly in front of him, two more individuals occupied the sofas. The men in front, both sporting beards and puffing on cigars, watched him with evident interest. They were the James brothers, Peter and Jackson, renowned leaders of the James family and pivotal figures in Skyrim Province's elite circle, most notably for their venture capital firm James Financial and its flagship entity, James Life Insurance. Clarke mentally noted their significant presence, sensing the undercurrents of power and influence that pervaded the room.

Beside Clarke Higilton, on an adjacent sofa, sat two men whose appearances bore the signs of fatigue. The elder, known as Jeffrey James, exuded an air of quiet authority, while the younger, who seemed to be around Clarke's age, was likely His's nephew.

The James family, a prominent name among the elites of Skyrim Province, was renowned for their dominance in the energy sector, particularly in nuclear fusion power plants and urban power transmission networks.

"Oh Higilton, you're unusually late today," Jackson remarked, his golden teeth glinting as he exhaled a cloud of cigar smoke.

"James , perhaps you arrived too early," Phill retorted calmly. "Mr. Rushford hasn't even arrived yet, has he?"

Jackson then turned his attention to Clarke. "And who's this beside you? I don't believe we've met before. Isn't he also your son? Where's your second son, Alexander You?"

Phill's mouth twitched slightly in annoyance. "Perhaps you should focus more on your own family matters."

"Okay, you two," interjected, eager to quell the brewing tension. "Any personal issues can be settled in private. Mr. Rushford will be here shortly. Let's not make a spectacle of ourselves to the rest of Skyrim Province."

Jackson laughed it off, choosing not to respond further.

The room fell into a brief, expectant silence until the living room door opened once more. Everyone turned to see a striking young man in a crisp white shirt enter. His skin was pale, almost porcelain-like, and his eyes were a deep, uniform black, devoid of discernible irises or pupils.

"Could those be electronic prosthetic eyes?" Clarke pondered internally, but quickly dismissed the thought. High-ranking chaebols rarely had prosthetic enhancements, and the eyes didn't resemble any known electronic prosthetics.

"If not prosthetics, then it must be genetic modification," Clarke concluded. While genetic optimization typically didn't alter appearance drastically, more extreme forms of genetic modification could result in such unique physical traits. The young man's presence added an intriguing layer to the already complex tapestry of power and influence in the room.