The news of Archibald Mooney's return roared through Los Alverez like a storm breaking over a parched desert, electrifying the city with whispers of power, fear, and ambition.
The man who could shift entire economies with a single phone call, who had sculpted Moon Enterprises into a colossus that dwarfed most nations, was back after five years of orchestrating his empire from the shadows of Zürich's banking halls, Dubai's gilded towers, and Kyoto's serene boardrooms.
The city's pulse quickened as the black sedans rolled in from Los Alverez International Airport. Police convoys carved a path through the morning traffic, their sirens a low wail that seemed to bow to the man they escorted.
The vehicles moved through the roads. Overhead, there were drones humming like mechanical vultures, their lenses trained on the procession, feeding live footage to every major news outlet.
