She was not a villain. Not quite. Freya was the great-great-granddaughter of the legendary Victor von Doom, and she had inherited his genius, his will of iron, and most critically, his unyielding belief that the world needed to be saved from itself. But where Victor sought to rule, Freya sought to build.
Within seventy-two hours, the Mandate was signed. The lower levels got their sea-wall. The wealthy got their water back. And Freya von Doom? freya von doom private society
The lead councilor, a man named Vex, was apoplectic. “This is extortion! This is an act of war by a private citizen!” She was not a villain
On the upper levels, billionaires screamed as their decorative spires vanished in a symphony of silent drone lifts. Their private security forces were useless—the drones followed FAA regulations to the letter, holding permits Kael had fabricated from thin air. By sunrise, the spires had become a crescent-shaped breakwater in the drowning district of Fenside. But where Victor sought to rule, Freya sought to build
When the Council convened in emergency session, they found their own damning climate models scrolling across every screen in the chamber. Then, Sana’s message arrived.