The car hummed smoothly as Ronan and Alex drove through the city's bustling streets. The evening sky was darkening, casting long shadows as they approached the news station. Ronan, deep in thought, glanced over at Alex before speaking.

"We're about to do something that will change how the world sees me," he said, his voice calm yet purposeful.

Alex, sitting beside him, gave a nod. "What's the plan?"

Ronan smiled faintly. "Tonight I fool the world."

Ronan says it "Authority Cancel". With his face return to original.

Alex seeing this says "Why change again ronan?"

Ronan chuckled softly. "It's necessary."

The car rolled to a stop outside the news channel's building, its lights blazing brightly. Ronan stepped out of the vehicle with a calm, steady stride, his presence alone enough to make the air feel heavier. Alex followed behind, but there was a sense of anticipation—this wasn't just an ordinary appearance. Ronan was setting the stage for something monumental.

They entered the studio, and the crew moved quickly, ushering them to the set. The news anchor, a woman with sharp eyes and an authoritative tone, greeted Ronan and Alex.

"Mr. Ronan Arcanveil, it's an honor to have you here," the anchor said, her voice trembling ever so slightly. There was an air of forced professionalism, but the fear behind her words was undeniable. "This is a live broadcast, and many are watching. Why did you request this interview?"

Ronan sat in his chair, his presence commanding the attention of everyone in the room. The pressure was palpable. The crew also moved with a remarkable sense of urgency, knowing full well the man they were dealing with. Alex sat off to the side, behind the staff, watching the interviews begin.

Ronan's voice was soft and deliberate as he answered. "I know the whole world is Afraid of me right now, but your fear is misplaced. Your fear comes to the wrong face."

Anchor's eyes widened, and a bright look of fear crossed his face. "What do you mean by that, Mr. Arcanveil?" she asked. The other workers stood in shock as they looked at each other, some evidently uncomfortable with the weight of Ronan's word.

Ronan smiled subtly, his cold gaze locking with the camera. "The face you're seeing now—the one you believe to be mine—is not my true face. It's not the one that terrorized the world."

The room was strangely quiet. Everyone's eyes turned to the door, where a man stepped into the studio. He looked excatly like the face the world feared—the face of Ronan Arcanveil.

The staff froze. Her eyes widened. The pressure in the room became almost unbearable. Alex saw the fear written on the faces of the crew, the shaking hands of the photographer, the wide, menacing eyes. Just like as he wanted.

Ronan's voice cut through the shock. "Look," he continued, "this man you know as Ronan Arcanveil was never the real me. I used his face to terrorize the world. And now, it's time to reveal the truth.The man who you believed to be Ronan Arcanveil is just a pawn in my game, my loyal subject, controlled by fear."

As Ronan finished speaking, he slowly began to change his face, shifting through various identities, each one more unrecognizable than the last. The man who had once stood as the symbol of power, destruction, and terror was now shifting into nothing more than a face in a crowd.

The camera snapped every moment. The staff were still visibly too nervous, their hands shaking as they tried to put the film on. The news reporter's face was colored, his silence wobbling at the edges.

"I made him loyal by fear," Ronan's voice echoed in the studio, "but now, the real terrorizer of the world will be named."

A tense silence followed as everyone in the room waited for his next words.

Ronan leaned forward slightly, his voice growing more intense. "Let me tell you something you might not know. There's a pack of any living creature—be it a wolf or a lion—and the strongest one among them is called the alpha. There can only be one alpha. And that," Ronan paused, his gaze piercing the camera, "is me. The one and only alpha creature."

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The words sent a chill through the studio.

Alex, watching from behind the camera, felt a rush of emotions. For a moment, everything had seemed so straightforward, so logical. Ronan was in control—he was the master of his own game, and Alex had trusted in that. But as the interview progressed, Alex's trust began to waver.

The way Ronan shifted his appearance, the seamless way he controlled the situation—it was impressive, but there was something unsettling about it all. The fear in the room, the palpable tension... It wasn't just a performance. It was real.

Alex could feel his trust in Ronan beginning to fray. Was this just another game for Ronan? Had he been using Alex all along, as part of his grand plan? Alex's thoughts swirled, confusion replacing the admiration he had felt for Ronan's power and charisma.

News Anchor: "Why did you do this? What was the reason behind all this terrorizing?"

Ronan took a deep breath, letting the weight of his words settle in.

Ronan (Alpha): "It all begins with me as a child. I grew up in the darkest part of humanity—the black market, the underworld. I had incredible talent. I could do whatever I wanted. But one day, I asked myself: Why not run away from all this and live a normal life?"

The news anchor, still in shock, watched as Ronan paused, his gaze distant.

Ronan (Alpha): "But the world proved me wrong in every way possible. I couldn't escape it."

As Ronan continued speaking, he discreetly sent a text to Alex. "Everything I'm saying is a lie."

Alex, still feeling the weight of the interview, felt a sharp pang of confusion. He glanced at his phone, reading Ronan's message. It didn't make sense. Was it all an act? Had Ronan been manipulating him this whole time, using his powers and his charisma to weave a complex web of lies?

Ronan (Alpha): "So, I decided to use my talents differently. I approached Ronan Arcanveil, made him fear my powers, and used his identity to create an even greater wave of terror. I made him my right-hand man, and together we controlled the fear."

News Anchor: "Why didn't you do anything to the underworld? They were the ones you were part of."

Ronan smiled, his eyes narrowing.

Ronan (Alpha): "They're weak. They couldn't threaten me. So, I left them as they are. They've never mattered."

Meanwhile, elsewhere in the world, the head of the underworld—sitting in his dimly lit room—watched the broadcast, his anger rising. He smashed his phone onto the floor, the glass shattering.

Underworld Leader (angrily): "I'll show him what a real alpha is."

As Ronan finished the interview, the scene cut to him vanishing into thin air, his presence fading like a shadow into the night. Alex moved quietly toward him, his mind still racing with conflicting thoughts.

Alex: "How did you do it?"

Ronan smiled, but his response was calm and distant.

Ronan: "Illusion technology."

Alex, still struggling with his thoughts, hesitated for a moment before asking the burning question.

Alex: "Was the underworld part true?"

Ronan: "It's all a lie, Alex. I was never connected to them."

But as Ronan spoke, Alex couldn't shake the feeling of betrayal. Something about the way Ronan had spun this whole narrative—so effortlessly, so coldly—made Alex question everything. Was he just another pawn in Ronan's game?

As they drove away from the news tower, Alex's thoughts swirled in turmoil. The trust he had in Ronan was slipping away, replaced by doubt. This wasn't the same man who had shared coffee with him, the one who had seemed human and vulnerable. This was something else entirely.

He watched Ronan in silence, wondering how much of the man sitting beside him was real, and how much was just another illusion. The power Ronan wielded—it wasn't just physical. It was psychological. And now, Alex wasn't sure if he could trust any of it.

Alex sat quietly, still processing everything he had just seen. Fear, manipulation, lies—Ronan had woven a story so real that even Alex, seen behind the curtain, felt the line between reality and fiction blur.

Ronan noticed Alex's silence and stared at him, reading the confusion on his face. "You're shaking," Ronan said quietly, his voice breaking the tension in the car. "if you want to do something, you have to finish what you started."

Alex looked at him, trying to shake the unease in his chest. "What are you trying to say?"

Ronan leaned back and says "I need Alpha to be the symbol of fear. The world needs something to focus its terror on, and Alpha will take that role." He paused, letting the weight of his words settle. "So that I, Ronan Arcanveil, can live peacefully. I'll use that fear, control it... but from a distance."

Alex's eyes widened slightly as the realization hit him. Ronan wasn't just building a mask; he was constructing an entire façade—one that would protect him while Alpha bore the burden of the world's fear. Alex slowly nodded, understanding the depth of the plan.

Ronan glanced over, sensing the shift in Alex's thoughts. "Do you get it now?"

Alex's voice was quiet, but resolute. "Yeah... I get it. You're finishing what you started."

And with that, the lingering doubts in Alex's mind began to dissipate, replaced by a growing understanding of the grander game Ronan was playing.

Celia, watching intently from the comfort of her living room, had witnessed everything unfold in live. The world had just been fed a new narrative, one that would send ripples of uncertainty through the global stage.

Ronan's words, the calmness of his demeanor, and the boldness of his actions... it was all so meticulously orchestrated. But there was more beneath the surface. A truth that had become clear to Celia as the interview progressed.

It wasn't just a performance. It was a calculated move, a deeper plan that Ronan had set into motion. As the final words were spoken, a thought settled in her mind: she understood what Ronan was truly aiming for.

A cold, sharp realization gripped her. He was playing a much larger game than anyone—Alex included—could imagine.

And now, Celia knew exactly what he was planning to do.