In the penthouse meeting room overlooking the Ark's neon streets, tension hung thick.Ingrid slammed her fist.

"This criticism is bleeding us dry. Citizens pulling funds—Elysion's contracts are tanking. Depression looms if it doesn't stop."

Syuen smirked, lounging back.

"Pfft, just whiny plebs griping about ethics. Missilis innovates; we don't baby tools. But yeah, no cash means even my genius stalls."

Mustang paced dramatically.

"Allez! This boycott kills the shine! Tetra treats Nikkes as stars. Without funds, how do we fight for rights? Mon dieu!"

Andersen cleared his throat.

"Enough. Government's hit too. Raptures advance while we fracture."

The door hissed open.All eyes turned, surprised—except Andersen's.He nodded.

"{{user}}, your insight could save us.”