//Report: Quinn, Jackson.

//Saint Corp Plaza.

//Horizon City.

//Greece.

//Resume log.

"And here we are!" Sanviento threw his arms open in a wide flourish as we stepped through the sliding front doors. "Welcome to the Plaza!"

Dan, Lucas, Amani and I stood together at the entrance of the building, staring up in awe at the immense room that sprawled out before us. Saint Corp's central facility was absolutely immense, an open-plan room of metal walls, wood trim and white marble finish bordered by an immense geometric dome of glass overhead.

Bizarrely enough, most of the space was completely open, undivided by specific rooms or hallways. The natural barriers that divided the space were just that—natural. Plants, water features and even entire rows of trees turned the comparatively empty space into a shockingly lush indoor garden that separated parts of the facility.

Where plants couldn't cover, height or glass did the trick; I counted at least seven storeys of platforms throughout the space, criss-crossed by various pedways, elevators and staircases. In some ways, it reminded me of the Firmament.

Far above our heads, the facility's central tower protruded proudly into the sky, surrounded by the Plaza itself. It seemed that this immense building circled the entire base of the tower, interrupted only by a concrete moat in between, through which I could see countless Guardian mechs assembling.

Compared to the open space of the Plaza, access to the tower was comparatively limited—I counted only a handful of pedways that extended from the plaza across the concrete moat between the buildings, locking the two buildings together like the hub and spokes of a wagon wheel.

All around us, people in white-collared shirts hustled about between workstations, performing countless tasks. Some glanced our way, and I even saw a few employees duck out of sight or begin whispering to each other.

Michael Sanviento, for his part, seemed to ignore the glances and whispers of his staff—it was clear he was used to it.

I wasn't sure what to think of the bizarre billionaire who had funded SPEAR for all these years—after shaking his hand, the man had immediately launched into his tour, guiding us away from the dropship and into the facility. He spoke at a mile a minute, rattling off specifications about the building's eco-friendly nature and the staff count, but it was hard to keep up with his sales pitch.

We were working for a corporation.

I'd known this for a while now, ever since General Mallet had told us in her office, but the information was so much harder to accept when seeing it in-person.

I trusted my General, knew that she'd made countless compromises and sacrifices to keep SPEAR alive, but it was hard to feel reassured when I was making nice with the very type of person I'd trained all my life to help destroy.

It was clear that the others felt the same way—neither Amani, Dan nor Lucas spoke a word as we followed Sanviento on his tour, too emotionally drained to pipe up any further. The Firmament was gone, our friends were dead and now we are working for a corporation. It felt like a cosmic joke.

"Right this way, folks!" Sanviento declared. We followed in his footsteps as he strode across the open floor, marching us further into the building and away from the doors. We continued to match his blistering pace as he passed rows of desks, benches and countless white leather couches until, at long last, he came to a stop at the base of an indoor fountain.

Like the building itself, the fountain was impressively ornate, a cascading swirl of plaster and glass almost a storey tall. At its peak was a brilliant marble statue of a man in a suit that looked almost identical to Sanviento, with one hand outstretched to point toward the sky and the other clutching a small globe. My eyes darted to a placard at its base.

Silas Sanviento, 2140.

"This will have to be our last stop for now," Sanviento declared. He turned to us with a beaming smile on our face, seemingly oblivious to how miserable we felt. "However, I assure you..."

His smile suddenly fell off his face, and his right hand flew up to his ear.

"Are we far enough away from the doors?" he spoke in a worried voice, far from the chipper tone he'd maintained throughout the tour. "And the crowds...? Good. Okay. Thank you, Nick."

Michael Sanviento turned back toward us, and the man seemed to change in an instant. Gone was the cheery host we'd been following around, and in his place was a slumped, tired-looking man with a sad expression.

"I'm so, so sorry," he sighed. He brought a hand to his face, massaging his temples. "That was a lot, I know, and it wasn't the first impression I wanted to give you but the outlets wanted to see the champions of SPEAR and the board wouldn't get off my back about it, and..."

Sanviento seemed to catch himself, and he stopped talking. Instead, he held out his hand to each of us in turn, giving us a far weaker handshake than he had before.

"Let's start over," he offered. "I'm Michael. Now that we're away from prying eyes, I'll answer any and all questions you want to ask, truthfully. You're owed all that and a lot more."

There was a moment of silence. Nobody was sure how to react—the charming, well-groomed billionaire had seemingly evaporated in front of us, replaced by another person entirely. If I looked closely at Sanviento, I could even see bags under his eyes.

"Where is Kedrick?" Amani inquired, breaking the silence. "Is he okay? We want to see him."

"Last I heard, your friend was recovering in the medical wing upstairs," Sanviento replied. "He was rattled pretty badly by that stunt in the Exodus, but he's already back on his feet. You're welcome to visit him any time."

"Good," Amani nodded. "At least there's that. I know that Dan wanted to make sure Kedrick was—uh, Dan?"

Without speaking a word, Dan stepped around Amani, moving forward, and he marched directly up to Sanvinento, towering over him. To his credit, the man didn't flinch like Leto—he stared up at Dan with an impassive expression.

"The others are taking this admirably well because they're kind people, but I've been through these corporate power games before," Dan spat. There was a hard edge to his voice that I wasn't accustomed to, an undisguised contempt. "You revealed their identities to the general public without permission, then blindsided them with that information. Any hope of them living a normal life after all this is over just went up in smoke. Got a truthful answer for that?"

"I take it you haven't seen the news in a few hours?" Sanviento replied. I saw Dan hesitate. "Your identities were exposed by Axion hours ago." He swept a hand through the air, his voice taking on a sensationalized tone. "Canadian terrorists destroy United States satellite infrastructure! SPEAR terror cell responsible for deaths of thousands!" He dropped his hand to his side with a sigh. "To be fair, most of the world still believes in the truth you revealed about Axion and Project Themis, but they've still got supporters in their pocket, and they've blasting your names on every news station they can."

"Damn it," Lucas snapped. "I thought this was all supposed to be over after we took down Project Themis!"

"No," I replied. I felt a pang of guilt as I thought back to the talk between Laura and I the night before the battle in the Mojave desert. "Laura knew it wouldn't end here. She tried to warn me, but I wasn't willing to listen. Axion Industries isn't just one project, or one person. It's a system. We've disrupted that system..."

"...and now we need to dismantle it entirely," Sanviento finished.

"We?" Dan huffed. "I take it you plan on risking your life in a mech, or parachuting from a dropship? Gonna grab a gun and fight?"

"If I have to," the CEO snapped. I saw a flash of anger on his face, but it was quickly replaced by a look of shame. "Well... no. No, I'm not."

"I knew it," Dan scoffed. "You tycoon-types are all the same. Too greedy to put your money where your mouth is."

He turned his back on Sanvinento and began walking away, when something unexpected happened.

"...I hate it," Sanviento grunted.

All eyes flicked back to him.

"You hate... what?" Dan stated. He stood with his back to Sanviento, but he'd ceased walking.

"This," Sanviento replied. He raised a hand, gesturing vaguely. "All of it. I hate being a damn CEO."

"Oh, fantastic," Amani deadpanned. "Poor, sad billionaire. You want us to feel bad for you?"

"No," Sanviento growled. "I want you to take it from me, god damn it!"

There was a moment of stunned silence.

"I mean it," Sanviento insisted. "You see this? All of this? The company, the fortune, the Saint brand, it was all his!" He pointed one finger behind him, at the marble statue. "He built Horizon City into what it is, saw us through the Age of Steel Skies. He spent his whole life not giving a damn about anything but his own ambition, and then he died and dumped the consequences of his actions on me."

Sanviento was ranting now, loudly and openly, in the center of his own facility.

"If I gave his fortune up to the board, signed Saint Corp away to the highest bidder, I'd be forgiving him for all the things he did, letting those consequences continue under someone else's leadership. So I'm trying to do the right thing with all that wealth, and use it all to end this stupid war!"

"Bullshit," Dan glowered. "You supported SPEAR for years, and only now you choose to have a change of heart?"

"I was scared, damn it!" Sanviento barked. His anger seemed to reach a peak, falling away into a quiet remorse. "I was... I was scared. I didn't want anything to do with my father or his damn legacy. I was scared, for the longest time, that if I used his wealth I would become him. So I sat on it, or invested it quietly, into groups like SPEAR and a handful of others. But it doesn't go away—hell, thanks to all my father's investments it's actually growing, and SPEAR wasn't enough. The writing was on the wall months ago—I had to get involved."

"Hang on a second," Lucas chimed in. "You used Saint Corp's wealth to fund other groups like SPEAR? What happened to the others?"

"Well," Sanvinento winced. "Most were from the early days of the war, and weren't as heavily supported. Only one other group lasted for any significant period of time. It's all rather dour, so it's just best to say that things didn't work out. None were anywhere close to as organized as you were, just armed mercenaries." He grimaced. "If there's one thing I've learned in life, it's that you can only trust mercenaries as far as their next paycheck."

"Funny," Dan prodded, "I would've said the same thing about billionaires."

Now it was Sanvinento's turn to march up to Dan, staring up at him.

"You hate billionaires?" He retorted. "Good. Let's use my fortune to do something about that."

I didn't know what to say, and it seemed that Dan didn't, either. Instead, the first person to break the silence was Lucas.

"My god," he breathed. "You're serious. All of this... you want us to use it?"

"Every red cent," Sanviento nodded. "Weapons. Mechs. Personnel. Whatever you need. Use it to eradicate the remnants of Axion Industries, or Savant Systems, or Satori Enterprises, or whatever corp you damn well please. That's why I gave the order for my technicians to reveal your identities—this war is about ideology, and it's time to show the world what you're doing so they'll join in. Show them how to topple an empire."

"And when it's over? What do you get out of this?" Dan replied. He turned back toward Sanviento with a frown on his face.

"Peace of mind," Sanviento replied. "Nothing more... and certainly nothing less."

"Jackson?" Amani prodded. She stared at me with concern in her eyes, and I realized that Dan and Lucas were doing the same.

I still didn't know what to say. On the surface, this seemed like the best-case scenario—an almost unlimited supply of resources with which to bring about an end to the Iron War, far from the days of supply runs and stolen IRON chip shipments of SPEAR.

Saint Corp was a global powerhouse, but if Sanviento was telling the truth it would benefit us all to use up its resources for our goal.

Unfortunately, it was the if that worried me.

"Let's say I do believe you," I stated, finally. "Let's say you really don't want your father's fortune, and you really don't have any ulterior motives. Why did you want us badly enough to risk an international incident extracting us from Rome? We're just pilots."

"Because the world knows you now," Sanvinento replied. "Jackson, I began preparing for this day months ago. I didn't want to believe that SPEAR would collapse, but I had to be ready." He stepped away from Dan, turning toward me. "Like it or not, you're part of something bigger now. You aren't just pilots, you're heroes, and the closest thing to the face of anti-corporate sentiment the world has seen in a long time. We need to weaponize that. That's how we win—not just with mechs, not just against Axion, but by convincing the public that every corp is fallible."

"No more hiding," Amani affirmed. I could sense her trepidation, but it was undercut by a cautious optimism in her voice. "I think I'd like that."

"It would be one hell of an upgrade," Lucas nodded. "I'd love to get my hands on a dropship like the Seraphim."

"I believe this is a mistake," Dan replied, "but I'll admit I'm heavily biased from prior experience. It's your call, Jax."

I turned toward Michael Sanviento, who stared back at me. There was no hesitation in his gaze.

"I think—"

"Don't do it, damn you!"

A loud shout echoed through the Plaza, and I turned to see Darius Blackwell sprinting toward us.

"Oh, shit!" Lucas exclaimed.

The former director of Axion Industries had been taken aboard Seraphim 1, but I had been too busy with everything going on to notice that he'd been kept separate from us for the duration of the flight.

Blackwell was coated in sweat and his red t-shirt was torn in several places. Worst of all were the handcuffs—he ran with his arms pinned behind his back, still secured in stainless steel.

"Quinn, that bastard is your enemy!" Blackwell shouted. His eyes were wild as he approached us, even as white-armoured security guards closed in on all sides. Even from a distance, I could see fury in his eyes.

"Sanviento, you asshole!" Blackwell roared. "I should've known SPEAR was your doing! They didn't tell me enough for me to realize at first, but now I see how deep this goes!"

A woman clad in white armour caught him by the waist and he twisted to one side, throwing her off of him with practiced grace. A second guard, a heavyset man, latched onto his left leg and he rolled out of the grab, popping upright and continuing his run. As the distance between them widened, the woman drew herself to her feet, pulling a device from its holster. I caught a glimpse of the item in the seconds before it fired—a thin, white handheld that vaguely resembled a radar gun.

The device's broad face glowed bright blue, and a second later, a loud pop filled the room and I saw a flash of blue light, an instant before Blackwell fell, face first, across a desk.

It was like he'd been shoved—another SLAM projector, if I had to guess.

"Jack..." Blackwell heaved. It seemed that the shot had only knocked the wind out of him, but it was enough for the guards to catch up, pinning him down. "Jackson... you told me you'd work with me... don't let them... don't let him..."

The soldiers dragged him off the desk by the cuffs, pulling him upright. Blackwell's mania seemed to melt away, and he stared at us all with a look of resignation.

"You've traded one devil for another," he stated. "Not much of an upgrade. Intent is one thing—actions are another. I knew you were a fool, Quinn, but I didn't think you were this short-sighted. Your father would be disappointed."

"I intend to prove my honesty with actions, Mister Blackwell," Sanviento replied. There was anger in his voice. "I'm finally listening to the better angels of my nature and holding myself to a higher standard than my father ever did. At least I can say I'm trying to do something selfless—can you?"

Blackwell didn't respond. Instead, he turned his head and allowed the soldiers to lead him away, toward one of the pedways that led to the central tower.

"That was..." Sanviento attempted. "I'm sorry. We were planning to place him under watch in one of our rooms until we figured out how to extradite him back to the United States, but I guess he got loose, and..."

"It doesn't matter," I spat. My harsh tone surprised Sanvinento, but I was at my limit of time spent with Darius Blackwell already. "We'll use your resources, but at the first sign of dishonesty this all falls apart, you understand me? No lies."

"No lies," Sanviento agreed. "Congratulations, Jackson. We're all one step closer to ending the Iron War."