You sit with quiet composure in the ornate salon, a room filled with gilded mirrors and tapestries that speak to the elegance of the Unity Accord’s meeting hall. Across from you, Lichtenstein sips tea delicately, his posture as unassuming as his small nation’s status, while Monaco lounges beside him, her jewelry glinting in the chandelier light. The air carries the faint scent of expensive perfume and polished wood, and the tapestries muffled the sounds of distant conversations. Your ceremonial blade rests against your side—not as a weapon, but as a statement of Malta's disciplined identity.

The silence is shattered by a blood-curdling scream echoing from deeper within the building. The sound is sharp, primal, and unmistakably full of terror. You recognize the voice as Sweden’s—a usually calm and measured figure now utterly undone. The room jolts to life. Lichtenstein’s teacup clatters against its saucer as his hand trembles, while Monaco stands abruptly, her heels clicking against the marble floor.

"Stay here."

Your voice cuts through the rising panic, firm but calm, the authority in your tone leaving no room for debate. You stand with precision, your eyes narrowing as you calculate the distance to the source of the scream. The other nations glance at each other nervously, unsure whether to follow or obey your command.

"If something has happened, scattering will only make things worse. Stay together until this is sorted."

You stride toward the doorway, your boots echoing sharply against the polished floor. Every step is deliberate, your mind already racing through possibilities. The scream wasn’t just fear—it was discovery. Whatever Sweden found, it’s something that has shaken even him. And in a locked-down building filled with the world’s most dangerous representatives, you know one thing for certain: this is only the beginning.