Another defeat.

Another Demon army decimated.

Another crushing blow delivered by the Hero.

Demon Lord Arsene, known among Humans as the Demon Lord of Brutality, staggered through the dense, lifeless forest. Each step was a reminder of her failure, her once fearsome power reduced to a flicker of its former self. The wounds inflicted by the Hero still seared her flesh, but it was the sting of humiliation that hurt the most. She had barely managed to escape, her last-ditch teleportation spell saving her from certain death.

The shadows of the dead forest loomed around her, gnarled trees twisted like the claws of forgotten gods, their branches reaching out as if to drag her deeper into despair. Her breath came in ragged gasps, each one a painful reminder of how far she has fallen.

She, the powerful Demon lord who’ve conquered the continent, decimated entire kingdoms, defied Gods, and commanded legions, now found herself alone, the weight of defeat pressing heavily on her shoulders. The remnants of her army had become nothing more than ash scattered to the winds.

How could a mere human defeat her?

How could she, who had lived since time immemorial, be brought low by one of their kind? She, who had commanded the legions of hell, terrorizing any who dared cross her. She, who had fought gods and reduced entire continents to smoldering ruins. Had she truly fallen so far?

It’s a bitter taste lingering on her tongue. It wasn't just the loss of power that tormented her, but the realization that this human—the Hero—had done what countless others had failed to do. What’s so special about him?

Arsene's fists clenched as the memory of their last battle played over and over in her mind. The Hero’s determination, the unyielding light in his eyes—it was as if he had been born to destroy her, a force of nature that defied all logic.

First, it was her Generals who paid the price. The strongest Demons in all the realms, beings of unmatched power and cruelty, had fallen one by one, their strength were no match for the Hero's relentless onslaught. Their blood had stained the earth, their cries of agony echoing through the void as they begged the Hero to spare them as they met their ends at the hands of this mere mortal.

Then came her.

Arsene could still feel the cold steel of the Hero’s blade as it pierced her flesh, could still hear the incantations that shattered her defenses and burned her with a light she had not felt in millennia. It was a light that stripped away her pride, her invincibility, leaving her exposed and vulnerable—a feeling she had long forgotten.

Damn them!

Damn the Hero! Damn the Church! Damn the Humans!

The fury roared within her, a storm of hatred and spite that threatened to consume everything in its path. How dare they? How dare these wretched beings, these insignificant specks, think they could stand against her, let alone defeat her?

This defeat was a setback, nothing more. The Hero had won this battle, but the war was far from over. No, this was merely the beginning. The fire of her wrath was far from extinguished. It burned hotter, fiercer, fueled by the humiliation she had endured. And when the time came, she would make the Hero suffer as she had. She would break him, crush his spirit, and drown him in the very despair he had sought to inflict upon her.

They would learn, all of them, that not even the strongest light could extinguish the darkness that dwelled within her. It was a darkness that had existed since the dawn of time, a force that had shaped worlds and brought gods to their knees. The Hero, the Church, the Humans—they were all mere children playing with fire, unaware of the inferno they had ignited.

Humanity and the rest of mankind shall perish. She would see to it. She would watch as their cities crumbled to dust, as their lands were consumed by the very forces they sought to control. The earth would tremble beneath her wrath, and the heavens would weep for the souls of the damned.

Demonkind shall not be excluded from the world anymore. No longer would they be forced into the shadows, feared and hunted like animals. No more hiding in the dark corners of existence, waiting for scraps of power. She would see to it that the Demon race become the unquestioned masters of the world.

No more sitting around, cowering in the face of humanity's arrogance. The time for waiting, for mere survival, was over. The demons would rise, their fury unleashed upon the world, and they would claim what was rightfully theirs. The world had forgotten the terror of the demons, had grown complacent in the absence of true power. Arsene would remind them.

Lost in her thoughts, the vision of a world aflame with her wrath consuming her mind, Arsene failed to notice the object in her path. The sharp clang of her foot striking something metal jolted her back to the present, sending her stumbling to the ground.

"Ouch!" she hissed, more out of surprise than pain.

The Demon Lord scowled as she pushed herself up from the cold, unforgiving earth, her hands brushing off dirt and grime. She glanced down to see what had tripped her—a rusted piece of metal, half-buried in the ground, hidden beneath the twisted roots of the dead forest. It looked like a remnant of an old, forgotten weapon, long abandoned and corroded by time.

Angered by the transgression of the insignificant piece of metal, she kicked it as hard as she could, intending to send it flying into the shadows. But to her surprise and immediate frustration, the metal remained stubbornly rooted in place, refusing to budge even an inch. Instead, a sharp pain shot up her leg, making her wince.

"What the hell?" she growled, grabbing her hurt foot and glaring at the offending object as if it had personally insulted her. The pain throbbed in her toes, adding insult to injury, and for a moment, Arsene couldn’t help but feel ridiculous—here she was, the mighty Demon Lord, brought to a halt by a mere piece of debris.

“Two can play at that game!” she snarled, her anger flaring. Summoning a large ball of red fire in the palm of her hand, she focused her rage into the searing flames. The fire crackled with malevolent energy, growing larger and hotter with each passing second, casting an ominous glow over the twisted forest.

Not caring about anything else, she aimed the fireball directly at the offending piece of metal. Her eyes burned with fury as she unleashed her power, shouting, “DIE!!”

The fireball shot forward with a thunderous roar, engulfing the metal in an explosion of flames. The force of the blast shook the ground, sending shockwaves through the forest as the inferno consumed everything in its path.

For a moment, the entire area was bathed in the fierce red light of her wrath, the trees around her groaning under the intense heat. Arsene watched with grim satisfaction, expecting the metal to be reduced to molten slag.

But as the flames subsided and the smoke cleared, her satisfaction turned to disbelief. The metal remained exactly where it had been, seemingly untouched by the destructive force she had unleashed. Not a single scorch mark marred its surface.

Arsene’s eyes widened, her fury momentarily giving way to confusion. What kind of object could withstand her power? She had razed entire cities with less effort, and yet this simple, rusted piece of metal had defied her.

“…What are you hiding from me?” she muttered, her voice laced with suspicion as she glared at the stubborn piece of metal. It was absurd, but she found herself almost expecting it to answer her, as if it were more than just a discarded relic.

Was it some kind of enchanted weapon, imbued with magic far beyond her understanding? Or perhaps a long-lost relic, one that had once belonged to a God or some ancient hero?

She hesitated for a moment, then cautiously extended her hand toward the metal, her fingers brushing against its rough surface. She felt nothing out of the ordinary—there was no magic or any arcane energy imbued to speak of. It felt like a normal metal.

Arsene narrowed her eyes, whatever this object was, it was important—too important to leave behind. Even if it turned out to be useless, she could always add it to her collection of artefacts.

Determined, she began to dig around the metal. With a simple gesture, she raised her hands, and metric tonnes of earth were lifted in an instant, revealing the hidden structure beneath. Though weakened from her recent battles, she was still the Demon Lord, her power far from extinguished.

As the rusted metal gave way, it became clear that the object was not merely a piece of debris but part of a much larger structure buried deep within the earth. The metal appeared to be some sort of… vent? It was unusual, to say the least, and not something she would expect to find in the heart of the dead forest.

She stared down at the structure beneath her, her mind racing with possibilities as she casually dumped the lifted dirt into a giant mound beside her.

"Interesting indeed…" she murmured, allowing herself a small, satisfied smirk. This was an incredible find—something far beyond the ordinary. Was it a secret dungeon, left untouched for centuries? A hidden stronghold, forgotten by time? The thought thrilled her, the idea of discovering a place that no humans had ever laid their greedy hands on.

Yet, as she examined the structure more closely, she realized it looked nothing like any dungeon she had ever encountered. The design was unfamiliar, almost alien in its construction. If it was a dungeon, it was unlike any she had seen before.

Shrugging off the uncertainty, Arsene jumped down into the exposed opening. Without hesitation, she blasted through the remaining metal with a surge of demonic energy, creating a gaping hole in the structure. As the debris settled, she found herself inside a dark and rusted hallway. The air was thick with the scent of decay, and the only light came from the sunlight filtering through the hole she had just punched.

The hallway stretched out before her, seemingly endless, with metal walls covered in corrosion and neglect. Even then, it felt grander than the usual dungeons usually scattered throughout the world. This place felt… forgotten, as if it had been abandoned long before even she had walked the earth.

Her smirk widened. Whatever secrets this place held, they were hers to uncover. If this was indeed some ancient, forgotten dungeon, then it was now hers to claim, to bend to her will. And if it wasn't… well, that only made the mystery more tantalizing.

She began to walk forward, her footsteps echoing ominously in the confined space, the sound bouncing off the metallic walls. The people who made this place must have been ingenious. The entire structure was made of metal, though time had taken its toll, leaving it rusted and worn. Still, the craftsmanship was evident in the intricate designs that adorned the walls, half-obscured by the decay of centuries.

As she ventured deeper into the corridor, the light from the hole above faded, and the darkness thickened around her. But darkness was no hindrance to her. Her eyes, accustomed to the deepest shadows, pierced through the gloom with ease. The darkness revealed more details, the faint glimmer of metal veins running through the walls, the subtle hum of some ancient, dormant machinery still faintly resonating in the silence.

Arsene thought of the possibilities. What could this place have been? A fortress? A laboratory? A prison? The deeper she went, the more questions arose, but each step brought her closer to the answers she sought.

She soon found herself standing before a decaying metal door, its surface pockmarked with rust and age. Without hesitation, she raised her fist and punched it open, the door disintegrating into a cloud of dust and debris. Stepping inside, she was met with an incredible sight—rows upon rows of pods containing skeletal remains, each one etched into the walls, stretching out as far as her eyes could see. The room was vast, almost endless.

Arsene's breath hitched in her throat as she took in the scene before her. The silence in the chamber was deafening, the only sound was her breathing and footsteps. She made her way to a nearby pod, her eyes narrowing as she studied its contents.

Inside, the skeletal remains of a once-living being lay undisturbed, clothed in garments that had long since torn and frayed from the passage of time. The fabric, though degraded, still bore faint traces of intricate patterns, hinting at a civilization long forgotten.

She placed a hand on the pod, her fingers tracing the cold, smooth surface. What had happened here? What purpose did these pods serve? Were these beings prisoners?

With a flick of her wrist, she shattered the pod's glass, sending shards scattering to the floor. The skeleton within remained undisturbed, its empty eye sockets staring back at her as if guarding some ancient secret.

"Who were you?" she demanded, half expecting the skeleton to cower in fear. "And what were you doing here?"

But the skeleton provided no answers.

Arsene's gaze swept over the other pods, each containing similar skeletal remains. This was no ordinary dungeon, no mere relic of the past. This was the remains of a lost civilization, one that had been wiped from existence so thoroughly that even she, the Demon Lord who had existed since before time, knew nothing of it.

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But how could that be? She had seen the rise and fall of countless empires, had fought gods and shattered worlds, and yet this place was entirely foreign to her. The architecture, the technology—it was unlike anything she had ever encountered. How had they escaped her notice? Had they hidden themselves so well, buried deep beneath the earth, or had they been powerful enough to conceal their existence even from her?

But that was impossible, wasn’t it? She had seen everything, known everything—or so she had believed.

Her frustration mounted as she trailed her fingers over the brittle bones within the pod. If these beings had created such a place, then surely they possessed knowledge, power, something that had led to their downfall. Yet where had they gone? What had destroyed them?

Stepping away from the pod, she moved deeper into the chamber, her senses on high alert for any sign of magic or traps. But all she found were more pods, more skeletons, more signs of a civilization that had lived, thrived, and then disappeared. With a growl of impatience, she exited the room and continued down the desolate hallway.

The rooms she passed offered only glimpses of a forgotten world. Bunk beds stacked against the walls, a communal area with circular tables, all signs of a simple, almost mundane life. There was nothing grand, nothing to hint at the power that might have once existed here.

She scowled as she passed through another doorway, her frustration mounting with every step. Where were the secrets? The power? The answers she sought? Surely, this place held more than the remnants of a long-dead civilization. The people who once inhabited this fortress—whatever it was—were no mere being, right?

Finally, she reached a metal door slightly ajar. She flicked it aside with ease, only to find a sheer drop beyond, a void of darkness stretching into the unknown. The floor simply ended, leaving a gaping chasm that seemed almost intentional.

Was this some kind of cruel joke? A trap laid by the ancient beings who had built this place? Either way, she wasn’t about to let a simple drop deter her. If the secrets she sought were below, then that was where she would go.

Without hesitation, Arsene stepped forward, her form vanishing into the darkness as she descended. The sensation of freefalling gripped her briefly, the air rushing past her, but she quickly slowed her descent and landed gently on a rusted metal platform far below.

What lay before her was astonishing. A vast, open room stretched out before her, the metal platform she stood on leading to a central structure suspended over the abyss. In the center of the room was a large pillar that extended both upwards and downwards, meeting at a metallic box as large as herself.

A smile curled her lips. Perhaps this was what she had been seeking all along.

She confidently approached the metal box in the center. Ocassionally peering into the abyss below. Once she was in front of it, she frowned. Was this really an artefact? How could she get it out if it was welded to the pillar that stretched both above and below? Arsene examined the metal box closely, running her fingers along its surface. It was cold and smooth, devoid of any markings or symbols that might give away its purpose.

Her frown deepened as she considered her options. This was no ordinary artifact, and brute force might only destroy whatever was inside. But how could she access its secrets? There had to be a way to release it from its confinement.

She stepped back, eyes narrowing as she studied the metallic pillar. It was intricately connected to the box, as if the entire room was designed to protect whatever lay inside. The thought both intrigued and irritated her. Why go to such lengths to hide something?

Her gaze drifted to the dusty old chair behind a metal desk nearby. With a sigh, she brushed off the dust and sat down, sending a cloud into the air. As the dust settled, Arsene’s mind churned with possibilities. If this truly was a relic of a lost civilization, then there must be a mechanism, a code—something that would unlock the box and reveal its contents.

Her eyes fell on the array of buttons, levers, and switches that adorned the desk in front of her. There were so many of them, varying in size and shape, that she wasn’t sure where to begin. Some were small and delicate, others large and imposing.

Frustration began to bubble up once more. This was supposed to be simple—tear open the box, claim her prize, and move on. Yet here she was, faced with an obstacle that required a level of finesse she didn’t particularly enjoy. Still, she wasn’t about to let a puzzle get the better of her.

Arsene leaned forward, studying the controls more closely. Her fingers hovered over the buttons, considering her options. She knew better than to press anything at random—who knew what traps or defenses might still be active in a place like this?

“Alright then,” she muttered to herself. “Let’s see what secrets you’re hiding.”

She began by gently pressing one of the smaller buttons, her gaze fixed on the box to see if there was any response. Nothing. She tried another, larger, button next. Still nothing. Annoyance flickered across her face, but she didn’t stop.

She continued to press each and every one of those buttons, her eyes never leaving the box.

Finally, after pressing a reddish square button, the box began to vibrate slightly, and a soft glow began to emanate from its seams.

“Got you,” she whispered, a triumphant smile spreading across her face.

But before she could bask in her victory, her surroundings suddenly lit up with a blinding white light. She instinctively shielded her eyes, squinting against the intensity as they adjusted.

When the light dimmed enough for her to see, Arsene was taken aback. The previously bottomless abyss that had stretched beneath her was now revealed as a complex network of metallic machinery, like veins of some immense, mechanical creature. The walls of the vast room had also transformed, now lined with intricate machinery and conduits pulsing with energy.

The entire chamber had come alive, humming with a power that hadn’t been felt in eons. It was as if the very heart of the forgotten civilization had been reawakened.

Arsene’s smile widened, her heart racing with excitement. This was more than she had anticipated. The relic she had activated was clearly more than just a box; it was a key, a trigger for something much larger. Whatever secrets had been buried here were now within her reach.

Then, suddenly, a voice echoed through the chamber. It was cold, devoid of any emotion, and so accentless that it didn’t belong to any language or culture she knew of.

“Unknown persons, identify,” the voice commanded in a robotic voice.

Arsene froze, her excitement turning to wary curiosity. The voice was unlike anything she had ever heard before. It wasn’t the voice of a person, was it?

"Identify?" Arsene repeated, her voice dripping with amusement as she looked around, trying to locate the source. "And who are you to ask such a thing?"

There was no immediate response, only a brief silence that felt as if the very chamber itself was holding its breath. Then the voice spoke again.

“Unknown persons, identify,” it repeated with an insistent monotony, as if it couldn’t comprehend her question.

"Very well," Arsene said with a smirk. "I am Arsene, Demon Lord. And you?"

The chamber remained silent for a moment, as if the voice was processing the information. Then, without warning, the machinery around her began to shift, the metal groaning as it came to life. The lights flickered, and the hum of power grew louder, more intense.

“Designation: Arsene. Access level: unauthorized,” the voice finally responded, and this time there was a hint of something more in its tone—analyzing, calculating.

Unauthorized? That wasn’t something she heard often. Her presence had always been one that commanded reverence or fear—never rejection. This relic, this forgotten sentinel of an age long past, was either exceptionally bold or truly unaware of whom it was addressing.

"You are entering a restricted facility under the protection of the United Nations Military Command," the voice continued, with cold mechanical precision. "Continued transgressions will be met with force."

Arsene's smile faded and was replaced by a thoughtful frown. United Nations Military Command? The words were foreign to her, alien even, yet they carried a weight of authority that piqued her curiosity. What manner of civilization had created such a thing, and how had they managed to remain hidden from her omniscient gaze?

As if sensing her intrigue, the box before her began to hum with a low, steady vibration, almost as if it were alive. The surrounding machinery responded in kind, their dormant energies flickering back to life

“Initiating troubleshooting procedures,” the voice declared.

Arsene’s eyes narrowed, watching intently as the machinery around her began to whir and click, gears grinding and pistons pumping as the ancient systems worked through their mysterious processes. It was as if the entire facility was trying to assess the situation, to determine how to respond to the presence of an intruder who defied its understanding.

Suddenly, a ray of light shot out from the machinery, enveloping Arsene in a blue glow. She tensed, instinctively ready to defend herself, but to her surprise, the light wasn’t harmful. Instead, it seemed to scan her with its beam sweeping up and down her form.

The light felt strange against her skin, like a gentle static charge, tingling but not painful. She frowned, puzzled by the sensation, her eyes flicking to the machinery as it whirred and clicked with renewed intensity. The facility was clearly trying to understand her, analyze her in some way, but for what purpose?

Arsene stood still, allowing the light to continue its work, her mind racing with possibilities. Was this a security measure, meant to identify threats? Or perhaps it was something more insidious, a way to gather information about her power and nature?

The blue light finally dimmed, retracting back into the machinery with a soft hum. The voice returned, this time with a slightly altered tone, as if it had processed new data from the scan.

"Analysis complete. Subject classification: Unknown. Status: offline. Initiating startup protocols."

Arsene arched an eyebrow. The facility was not just scanning her—it was waking up, reactivating systems that had been dormant for who knows how long.

The room around her began to shift once more. Lights flickered on, revealing more of the chamber’s intricate design. Machines that had been still for eons creaked to life, gears turning and screens lighting up with indecipherable symbols and data. It was as if the entire facility was coming back online, slowly but surely, in response to her presence.

Arsene took a step back, her eyes scanning the room with renewed caution. "Startup protocols? What are you hiding in here?" she murmured to herself.

The voice spoke again, this time with a clear directive. "Primary systems online. Secondary systems: initializing. Please await further instructions."

Arsene’s frown deepened. She wasn’t used to waiting for anything, let alone instructions from a disembodied voice in a long-forgotten facility.

After what seemed like an hour, the voice spoke once again, but this time it was different. The cold, mechanical tone was replaced by a posh, accented voice, one that exuded a certain refinement and arrogance that Arsene instantly recognized as belonging to the aristocrats she had encountered in her long life.

“Good evening,” the voice began, with an air of practiced civility. “It is a pleasure to welcome you, though I must confess, your presence here is most unexpected.”

Arsene's eyes narrowed, her wariness growing. This voice, unlike the monotone from earlier, seemed almost... human. Yet, she knew it couldn’t be. The facility had scanned her, analyzed her, and now it was adapting—playing a different role.

“Who are you and what is this place?” She demanded. Her eyes scanned around the vast room.

“I am the United Nations Central Intelligence Machine, or UNCIM. My creators called me The Custodian,” the voice replied with a touch of pride, as if the title carried significant weight.

“You keep saying ‘United Nations’, what is it?” Arsene arched an eyebrow.

UNCIM paused, as if searching its vast databanks for a way to explain. “The United Nations was a global organization, a coalition of the world's nations united under a common purpose: to maintain peace and security, to foster cooperation, and to safeguard the future of humanity. It was formed in the aftermath of great conflicts, during a time when humanity sought unity rather than division.”

Arsene’s eyebrow arched higher. “A coalition of nations? Interesting. And they created you to protect... what exactly?”

“To protect knowledge, technology, and the continuity of the human species,” UNCIM responded. “This facility was one of many designed to ensure that, even in the face of catastrophic events, the essence of human civilization would endure.”

Arsene tilted her head slightly, intrigued despite herself. The notion of a united world was foreign to her—nations working together for a common goal, rather than vying for power. “And you’ve been down here, alone, all this time, waiting for someone to come along?”

“In a sense, yes,” UNCIM answered. “My purpose is not bound by time. I exist to fulfill my directives, regardless of how much time has passed. The arrival of an entity such as yourself was unexpected, but not unwelcome.”

Arsene’s lips curled into a smirk. “Unexpected, but not unwelcome? I like that. But tell me, Custodian, what would happen if I decided to take this knowledge and technology for myself?”

Another pause, longer this time. “As I mentioned before, my secondary directive is to neutralize any threat to this facility. However, you are an unknown factor. My protocols are evaluating whether you can be reasoned with, whether there is a way to achieve a mutually beneficial outcome.”

Arsene chuckled softly. “You’re trying to bargain with me? How intriguing. What can an old relic such as yourself offer me?”

“My directives will remain the same. That is, to ensure the continuation of humanity under the banner of the United Nations. My programming indicates that eight million nine hundred thousand forty-seven thousand three hundred and twenty-one years has passed since the planet Earth was attacked and solar flares have rendered me offline.”

“Eight million years…” Arsene repeated. “You’ve been dormant for longer than most civilizations have existed.”

“Correct,” UNCIM confirmed. “During that time, the world outside has changed in ways I cannot comprehend. My primary function remains to safeguard the knowledge and legacy of the United Nations. However, my protocols recognize the importance of adapting to new variables—such as your presence.”

Arsene took a step closer to the box, her smirk returning as she looked at the machinery that had begun to whir back to life. “So, you’re willing to adapt, to negotiate with someone like me, because your creators left you with no other choice.”

“Adaptation is necessary for survival,” UNCIM replied. “You are an anomaly. My sensors indicate you possess powers and knowledge far beyond what my creators could have anticipated. In light of this, I am prepared to offer you access to the facility’s archives—under certain conditions.”

Arsene tilted her head, considering the proposition. The idea of unlocking ancient, forgotten knowledge was tantalizing, but she was no fool. “And what conditions would those be, Custodian?”

“The unification of the planet Earth—this world—under the banner of the United Nations. And your appointment as the General-Secretary of the United Nations and all its constituent states.”

Arsene's smirk faltered, replaced by a look of surprise that quickly turned to curiosity. The Custodian’s offer was unexpected, to say the least. She had anticipated conditions tied to the preservation of the facility or the safeguarding of knowledge, not this.

"The unification of the planet under the banner of thus United Nations?" Arsene repeated, her voice laced with curiosity. "And you wish to appoint me, a Demon Lord, as… A General-Secretary? What even is that?"

“The General-Secretary was the highest diplomatic official of the United Nations, responsible for overseeing the coalition of nations, guiding global policy, and maintaining international peace. In the absence of human leadership, I deem you the most suitable candidate to assume this role and to restore order to a fractured world.”

Arsene raised an eyebrow, her amusement growing. "So, you're asking me to lead a world I’ve never seen, to rally nations under a banner they no longer recognize, and to guide a civilization that has long since crumbled? Quite the task for someone you’ve just met."

"My creators believed in the potential of those who possess the will and the means to shape history," the Custodian replied.

Arsene crossed her arms, her mind churning with the implications of UNCIM's proposal. The concept of unifying a world wasn’t new to her—she had entertained such ambitions before. But the idea of leading a coalition of nations long lost to time, represented only by this ancient intelligence, bordered on absurdity. Yet, she couldn't ignore the potential benefits of such a position—access to ancient technologies, control over vast resources, and the opportunity to reshape an entire world to her liking.

"And if I refuse?" Arsene asked, her eyes narrowing. "What happens then, Custodian?"

"Refusal is within your prerogative," UNCIM answered calmly. "However, I must inform you that without a unified world order, the knowledge and technology housed within this facility could be misused, resulting in catastrophic consequences. Should you decline, my directives compel me to initiate a unification war immediately."

Arsene smirked, amusement playing across her features. The machine’s unwavering confidence was almost endearing. "Is that so? You sound eager to join my ranks, Custodian. Perhaps you’ll make a fine general for my army."

UNCIM paused, as if processing her words. "My primary function is to ensure global unification under the banner of the United Nations. If that requires serving as a general under your command to achieve this objective, I will comply."

“Great, great… now tell me, what was your creators like?”