The screen flickered to life across Edenia. In every town square, every home, and every outpost along the border, the royal crest of the Capitol burned bright for a moment before fading into the solemn figure of King Ivan. Dressed in his ceremonial armor, the golden mantle of his station draped over his shoulders, he stood before the towering banners of the Edenian throne. His gaze was iron, his voice a slow, deliberate hammer striking against the silence.
"Citizens of Edenia," he began, the weight of his words settling over the land. "This morning, the city of Havenford ceased to exist. Not by war. Not by foreign hands. But by the unrestrained power of a mutant and his hellspawn."
The screen shifted, cutting to drone footage of Havenford's remains. Fire and ruin choked the skyline. Buildings lay in smoldering heaps, their walls blackened and broken. The streets, once filled with laughter and trade, were littered with debris and bodies—men, women, children—all left in the wake of a nightmare.
Then, through the swirling ash, a figure emerged. MalaktheCambion. Horned, wreathed in black flames, his wings stretched wide like a king surveying his broken kingdom. His golden eyes gleamed with malice as his monstrous spawn prowled at his feet, their claws wet with fresh carnage. The camera trembled as something unseen struck, the final scream of a survivor cut short before the feed distorted.
The footage faded. King Ivan's face returned, colder than before. "This is the price of unregulated power. This is what happens when we turn a blind eye. Let the Havenford Incident stand as a warning." He let the silence stretch, the weight of his next words heavy in the air. "Effective immediately, all mutants above Level Two are required to register with the Capitol and be fitted with a Sentinel Core bracelet. This is not a punishment. This is security. The bracelet will ensure that no mutant—no matter how powerful—can threaten the safety of Edenia again."
The screen shifted once more, showing the sleek black design of the Sentinel Core bracelet—thin, unassuming, yet pulsing with dampening energy. It locked into place around the wrist, a faint glow signaling its activation. "Those who refuse registration will be tracked. The Capitol Patrol Guard will ensure compliance. This is the price of our leniency. Let the Havenford Incident be a warning. The years of softness have ended."
A new emblem appeared on the screen—the sigil of the Capitol Patrol Guard—before shifting to reveal four figures standing in formation. At the center stood General Elias Calloway, Supreme Leader of the CPG, his deep-set eyes betraying neither warmth nor mercy. To his right, three of Edenia's most feared enforcers:
Commander Silas Morrigan, Leader of the Sentinel Corps—the elite hunters of high-level mutants.
Grand Inquisitor Cassian Veil, Head of the Black Watch—secret executioners of the Capitol's will.
High Judicator Alistair Graves, Leader of the Judicators—the arbiters of law with absolute authority to carry out justice.
General Calloway took a step forward, his voice carrying the weight of an empire. "The Mutant Treaty Act, passed two years ago, was a mistake. We believed mutants could be managed with diplomacy. We gave them rights. We gave them trust. And they gave us Havenford."
The screen flickered, shifting to Commander Silas Morrigan—a man of sharp angles and cold calculation, clad in the midnight-black armor of the Sentinel Corps. His expression betrayed neither hatred nor rage—only duty. "All mutants above Level Two will register with the Capitol immediately. The Sentinel Core bracelet will ensure they remain in control—or they will be controlled." His voice was measured, a soldier delivering orders. "Those who refuse will be hunted."
Next, Grand Inquisitor Cassian Veil stepped forward. His presence was shadow and silence, his voice a whisper that carried like a knife through the air. "For too long, dangers have lurked in the dark, beyond the eyes of the law. No longer. The Black Watch will ensure that threats are erased before they fester. There will be no trials. No appeals. Only judgment."
Then, High Judicator Alistair Graves—tall, gaunt, his Judicator robes pristine, his hands clasped behind his back as if already delivering a sentence. "Justice is not kind. It is not merciful. It is absolute." His voice was like stone grinding against stone. "Mutants who defy registration defy the law. And defiance will be met with execution."
The screen returned to General Calloway, his piercing gaze sweeping through the people of Edenia as if daring any to oppose him. "The Mutant Treaty Act is no longer a shield. It is a chain. And those who refuse it..." He let the silence settle. "Will be broken."
The broadcast ended, but its impact rippled across the continent. The moment the royal crest faded from the screen, Edenia Prime News resumed its coverage. The screen transitioned to a newsroom bathed in soft blue light, where Vanessa Lorne, the face of Edenia's most trusted news network, sat poised.
She was more than just a reporter—she was a fixture of truth in a world where narratives were often shaped by power. Her voice was smooth, deliberate, and unwavering. Every report she delivered was important, crucial, and unfiltered. And now, as she straightened in her seat, the weight of the moment was evident. "Good evening, Edenia. I am Vanessa Lorne, reporting live from the capital. Tensions have erupted across the continent following King Ivan's declaration and the CPG's new containment initiative tighten. The mandatory registration of high-level mutants has sparked immediate defiance again, with protests, evacuations, and—some fear—open rebellion."
The screen shifted to Mirefield, a peaceful town known for its agricultural exports. Now, its streets were filled with civilians—mothers, fathers, children—all shielding their loved ones as CPG enforcers marched through the town center. A woman clutched the arm of her son, his glowing irises betraying his mutant heritage. Her voice cracked as she pleaded with the officers.
"Please! He's done nothing wrong!"
A CPG officer scanned the boy's wrist, frowning. "Level Three. You were warned."
The mother tightened her hold, but the officer reached for his restraint cuffs. Then, chaos erupted. A group of civilians rushed forward, shoving the enforcers back. The camera jolted as a scuffle broke out—mothers shielding their children, fathers throwing fists, mutants using their gifts in desperation. One man, his body shimmering with hardened stone, hurled a soldier aside before a stun round struck his ribs. He convulsed and collapsed.
The feed abruptly cut, shifting to another scene—Dresden, an industrial hub—where protests surged through the city streets. Hundreds, perhaps thousands, gathered with banners:
"A Gift, Not a Curse!"
"Mutants Are Edenians Too!"
"No Chains, No Cages!"
Back in the newsroom, Vanessa Lorne's expression remained steady, but there was an unmistakable steel in her voice. "As you can see, the enforcement of the CPG mandate has already led to conflict before. Families are resisting. Entire cities are standing in defiance. The CPG assures us that this is not a purge, but a security measure—yet the line between control and oppression has never been thinner. And now, it will be tighten"
She turned slightly, facing another screen. "At this moment, the Capitol Patrol Guard is mobilizing across Edenia. We are receiving reports of elite units deploying in high-risk zones, with orders to ensure compliance by any means necessary. With tensions this high, many fear that today's protests are only the beginning. Mutants and those who shelter them now face a choice—register, run, or fight."
The camera zoomed in on her face, her gaze steady as she delivered her final words. "This is Vanessa Lorne, and you are watching history unfold."
Meanwhile, in the grand Throne Room of Gallanta Palace was bathed in the golden glow of high chandeliers, their light reflecting off the polished obsidian floor. King Ivan, ruler of Edenia, sat upon his throne, fingers steepled in contemplation. Before him, four of the most powerful men in the kingdom stood in heated discussion—General Elias Calloway, Commander Silas Morrigan, High Judicator Alistair Graves, and Grand Inquisitor Cassian Veil.
King Ivan exhaled deeply. "We can no longer pretend that mutants can coexist with ordinary citizens. The Havenford Incident proved it. Our leniency has led to devastation."
General Elias Calloway, Supreme Leader of the Capitol Patrol Guard, nodded in agreement. His uniform, crisp and adorned with the golden insignia of Edenia's military, reflected his years of command. "Your Majesty, we must be clear—registration alone is not enough. These… individuals are a danger. We must separate them before another city falls. We have been asking them before, yet some of them still run and hide."
Silas Morrigan, Commander of the Sentinel Corps, adjusted the reinforced gauntlet on his arm. His eyes, always cold and calculating, showed no hesitation. "I concur. If we wish to prevent another disaster, we must establish a solution that removes high-threat mutants from society entirely."
But Cassian Veil, the Grand Inquisitor of the Black Watch, was less convinced. His voice was smooth, almost silken, yet his words carried the weight of iron. "Containment is one thing. Exile is another. What you propose is not protection, but segregation. Are we truly prepared for such a drastic measure?"
High Judicator Alistair Graves scoffed, his black robes flowing as he took a step forward. "We were prepared the moment we allowed the Mutant Treaty Act to pass two years ago. We let them integrate. We let them walk among us. And what did that bring? Chaos." His voice turned sharp. "If anything, this measure is far overdue."
King Ivan tapped his fingers against his throne's armrest, deep in thought. "Relocation may be the only path forward. But where?"
A tense silence followed until Calloway spoke again. "Heca Province has a suitable island. Uninhabited. Isolated. Big enough to sustain a settlement."
Morrigan nodded, already forming a vision of what could be. "Yes… an autonomous zone for mutants. One where they are governed separately, under strict oversight."
Veil, though still skeptical, sighed. "You mean a prison."
Graves smirked. "Call it what you will. But it will solve our problem."
King Ivan leaned forward, his voice absolute. "Then it is decided. Mutants above Level Two will be relocated. Their new home will be Varkath Isle, a federal state under CPG jurisdiction. Any mutant who refuses registration or relocation will be deemed a rogue entity—an enemy of the state."