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The room was silent, the weight of Mark's words heavy in the air. The elites, despite their wealth and power, felt a chill run down their spines. They had seen the Soul Catchers in action, but now, the scope of their mission was clear. This wasn’t about power anymore. It was about absolute dominion—control over life itself.
“Our allies have been patient,” Mark continued, walking slowly along the altar. “For centuries, they’ve watched as humanity expanded, thrived, and now falters. The time has come for them to reap their reward.”
On the screen, images of cities appeared, people walking unknowingly beneath the towering Soul Catchers, their every step recorded, their every heartbeat analyzed. Mark’s gaze grew darker.
“With the activation of the final phase, resistance will no longer be possible. These machines will drain the very will to fight from those who oppose us. No rebellion can survive when even their spirit is taken.”
He stopped in front of a hologram, showing the planet encased in a web of energy, the Soul Catchers drawing from every corner of the globe. “The energy of every soul will be siphoned, processed, and delivered. In return, our allies will reshape this planet to our specifications. A world made perfect—for us.”
The elite murmured in agreement, but there was unease in their voices. Even they knew that the machines were indiscriminate. Could they too fall victim to the Soul Catchers?
Mark, sensing their fear, smiled coldly. “Do not worry. As long as you remain loyal to the cause, your souls will be spared. For now.”
The finality in his words was unmistakable. The world as they knew it was gone, replaced by a new order where not even death could free the masses from Mark’s grip. The Soul Catchers had turned Earth into a farm—a farm where the souls of humanity were harvested, traded, and ultimately consumed.
The room fell into silence once more, the only sound the quiet hum of the Soul Catchers as they continued their unholy work.
