Marcus POV
They met me in a room designed for persuasion.
Circular table. Neutral stone. No banners, no insignia. The kind of space meant to feel reasonable before anything had been agreed to. A place where people were supposed to believe they were choosing freely.
Three of them waited when I entered.
All mid-level. All familiar enough that I recognized the pattern immediately.
No one here had made the decision.
They were here to sell it.
"Marcus," one of them said, rising slightly not fully standing. Respect without deference. "Thank you for coming."
I took the empty seat without returning the courtesy.
"You didn't summon me," I said. "You scheduled me."
A faint smile. "We wanted to signal good faith."
Good faith is what people invoke when they want you to forget leverage exists.
"I assume this isn't social," I said.
