He sat at the desk, hands folded, staring down at them, lost in thought. It had been years since he'd built them from the ground up. He stared at his left hand, at the ring finger. He still felt naked without his ring, but he still had it. It's what had given him the original idea of his organization. And the concept a few others worked out, Blake had taken credit for, and no one was any the wiser. He was a false God among Gods, and he ruled over them all.
This, he liked. He enjoyed the feeling of power. It was so pleasing for him, ever since his wife had died.
He opened a drawer in the desk, and pulled out a silver ring. It was old, and slightly charred, but most noticeably, was the fact that it was missing a quarter of it. A Broken Ring.
His Broken Ring. Slowly, he returned it to the drawer, before looking back up at the Government official standing before him, waiting for a response. Blake smiled a fake smile at the man, but he was such a good liar, the best at deceiving, it seemed genuine. He didn't care about this man or his partners outside. They were armed to the teeth, and cocky. They seemed to think the government was in control of the Broken Ring. "You're mistaken, Lieutenant." Blake said cheerfully, still smiling at the man. "You seem to believe you're in control."
The door behind the Lieutenant burst open, and several men were thrown in, all dead, covered in blood. The Lieutenants team. Blake's smile widened, and this time, it was a terrifying one.
"Oh God... what the hell..." The Lieutenant covered his mouth upon recognizing the dead men. Several of the Broken Rings members stepped into the room, glaring at the Lieutenant. "I am the one in control, Lieutenant. I want you to go back, and tell your leaders, that if they want me to do this, then they need to remember who's in charge." He grinned devilishly as he stood up, towering over the lieutenant. "Understood?"
"...y-yes sir..." The Lieutenant muttered, averting his gaze, his eyes starting to become bloodshot. "Go." Blake whispered, cherishing his dominance over the soldier, who turned and hurriedly left without another word. The metas relaxed, and looked to Blake for their next orders. Blake had already turned around, staring out of a window in his office that overlooked his main base of operations. "Take these meatbags to the dogs. They haven't been fed in a while. And Julian?" He asked as the metas began to take the bodies from the room,except one, who stepped forward importantly to Blake.
"Follow our new friend. Make sure they all get the message." He ordered darkly, his smile still ever-present. Julian bowed his head. "On it, sir." With that, he left.
Blake smirked as he overlooked the base, watching hundreds of men and women at work, either building, training, or teaching. They were all skilled, smart, and healthy. Exactly as Blake wanted them. They all looked up to him. He was their beloved. He was cherished by all.
"I wonder how long these 'Outcasts' will last." He smiled to himself, before turning away.