On the dark side of Mercury, beyond a transparent, shimmering dome, a steady stream of transport ships moves unhurriedly. Each vessel, resembling a silver streak, passes through airlocks and lands on secured landing pads. The surroundings are filled with a tense silence, broken only by the faint hum of engines and distant metallic tapping.

  Among these ships lies a special area—the VIP sector.

  At the very edge of the platform stands a man in a flawless suit, resembling a forgotten statue. His face is relaxed, eyes focused on the exit, attentive. He watches a ship that has just arrived from Earth. This is Vicar—the chairman of Mercury Corporation, a powerful, wealthy, and influential company whose achievements often seem unattainable. Whispers surrounding the corporation are always filled with dark rumors. It's said that its successes aren't limited to innovations—there are also dealings with the underground syndicate known as the "Inquisitors," hidden from most eyes.

  Today, Vicar awaits someone he trusts implicitly. Someone who has always been by his side, despite all the challenges and secrets.

  From afar, a figure appears. A tall man in a flight suit strides briskly, as if eager to conclude the meeting and return to safety. His face is lit by a confident smile, though his eyes conceal inner unease.

  "Glad to see you! How was the journey, my friend?" Vicar's voice is surprisingly upbeat, almost theatrical. He spreads his arms, masking tension behind a forced smile, though a hint of wariness remains in his gaze.

  "As usual, uneventful," replies Ivor, his smile genuine, yet his eyes still carry a hidden question. He casts a quick glance at the ship and, almost casually, adds, "Brought the latest components. Everything went... without unnecessary noise."

  For a moment, the air grows heavy with silence. Both men fall quiet, observing their surroundings. From the depths of the hangar, where silence reigned moments ago, a procession of machines emerges. They flash yellow warning lights, passing by with loud clanking on the metallic floor. Loaders begin their work, approaching the ship in a chain, retrieving containers. Above them, combat drones hover almost imperceptibly, creating an invisible protective field.

  The containers vanish into the darkness of the hangar, swallowed by its shadows. Vicar squints momentarily, monitoring the process. He doesn't take his eyes off the cargo, as if something crucial is hidden in this moment. Something yet to be discussed.

  "Job's done. Shall we talk in a more comfortable setting?" Vicar suggests, his voice slightly quieter, with a barely noticeable hint of satisfaction. He doesn't avert his gaze from the cargo, a certain caution evident in his words.

  "With pleasure," Ivor responds, his gaze remaining confident, though a slight tension creeps in. He removes his hand from his hip—where a compact energy emitter is concealed, always carried for unforeseen situations. A shadow of a smile appears on his face.

  A luxurious transport approaches the platform. Its body gleams in the rays of the rising Sun, reflecting its light. Vicar and Ivor board it; the vehicle smoothly ascends over the megapolis, heading toward the illuminated side of the planet. Panoramic screens in the cabin display a majestic sunrise. Here, the Sun shines fiercely, its rays seemingly capable of incinerating everything around, but the protective field gently dampens their deadly force, creating an illusion of safety.

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  "Look at what we've achieved," Vicar says, pointing downward. His voice is filled with pride, but the underlying weight of his words carries not only triumph but also a warning. "All this—our workshops. Mercury Corporation controls more than anyone realizes."

  Ivor silently gazes into the distance, his look heavy, focused. The dome stretching to the horizon, like an ink-black mirror, conceals a vast empire beneath. He knows that ergon synthesis occurs here around the clock, that this energy powers not only planets but also has the potential to destroy them. A shadow of doubt flickers in his eyes—too powerful, too dangerous.

  "We produce more ergon than civilization can consume," Vicar continues, his tone unchanged, as if he himself doesn't fully grasp the potential consequences. "Now we're moving to the next phase. Synthetic materials. Mars technology. But with our energy. Our scale. We'll change the market."

  The transport gradually slows, hovering above a massive building resembling an ultra-modern palace. Through a diaphragm-like opening, they descend inside. Landing. A hall. A corridor leading to titanium doors, gleaming with refined luster. Everything resembles a techno-palace, where every detail, from floor to ceiling, speaks of capability, power, and wealth.

  In the conference room, samples lie on the table: smooth cubes, perfectly polished. Ivor picks one up, slowly rotating it between his fingers. His face remains calm, his gaze sharp—as if he feels the weight of every object he encounters.

  "We're taking away their future," he murmurs, his words filled with hidden bitterness.

  Vicar looks at him, his expression turning grim, eyes narrowing slightly, as if sensing Ivor's disagreement.

  "They forfeited it themselves when they decided they could dictate terms to us," Vicar retorts sharply, clenching his teeth, though his voice remains confident, like that of a master. "Mars will be angry. But anger isn't strength."

  Ivor places the cube back, his gaze scanning the walls, lingering on the tiniest details, as if searching for hidden cameras. Everything around seems to resemble a game of shadows, where every movement matters.

  "You think they won't start a war?" Ivor asks, his tone shifting, becoming slightly tense.

  He pauses for a moment, his expression turning serious as never before. His smile, hidden behind a cold mask, disappears, and his eyes darken.

  "I think it's already underway. Just still in the shadows," Vicar's words are quiet but carry certainty. He slows his breathing slightly, as if contemplating the consequences of his words. "By the way..." Vicar pauses, his gaze sharpening. "I have information that among us... there's a leak. Someone's working for Mars. I'm trying to find out who."

  Ivor falls silent, his eyes instantly turning cold. He can't ignore such words, sensing the scent of betrayal. But Vicar already averts his gaze, avoiding eye contact.

  "We need to be more cautious," Ivor replies, almost in a whisper. He looks at Vicar, but there's no fear in his voice—only a firm realization that vigilance is now paramount.

  "Exactly," Vicar nods, his tone regaining confidence. "But you've always been careful, my friend."

  Silence envelops the room, growing increasingly oppressive. Both men, each lost in thought, look in different directions. Plans are already forming in their minds; someone's shadow has crossed their ambitions, and these are not empty threats.

  Beyond the building's walls, in the depths of Mercury, the mechanisms of a future war are already stirring. A dark shadow draws nearer.