For the first time in a very long time, the Moon Enterprises Headquarters in Calivernia finally had its king on the throne.
That morning, the skyline of Los Alverez was drenched in a copper dawn, the morning sun slicing through the still air like a scalpel.
At the top most floor of Moon Enterprises' obsidian tower, Archibald Mooney stood behind his pristine desk, gazing down at the city like a sovereign over his kingdom.
In his mind, this was a generic pose done by almost every powerful business man, but looking down at the disaster the business world of Los Alverez had fallen into filled him with anger, and yet, a sense of purpose.
Behind him was his office.
It was an austere room — no vanity, no clutter. A single Montblanc pen lay neatly beside a leather-bound ledger on the matte-black desk.
