The One from The Prophecy?

In the heart of the Holy City, nestled amidst towering chrome skyscrapers, resided a restaurant so exclusive that securing a reservation was akin to capturing a unicorn.

Yet, there sat Lord Nicholson, a man whose power transcended mere wealth and influence, indulging in a decadent feast.

He was a World Councilperson, a position that dwarfed the authority of the so-called elected president.

Surrounding him were two breath-taking women, each adorned in the finery befitting their aristocratic status. Their laughter, like tinkling crystal, filled the serene atmosphere as they savored the restaurant's signature dish – a mutated fish boasting iridescent scales and a taste that danced on the tongue.

Suddenly, the tranquil scene shattered.

A trusted servant, his normally stoic composure replaced by frantic energy, burst through the gilded doors. Beads of sweat clung to his brow, and his voice trembled as he announced the news.