Just a quick scene from Gero's perspective this time around—background details to fill the world as we await poll results.
Dr. Gero adjusted his thin-rimmed glasses as he leaned over the stack of classified documents sprawled across his dimly lit workbench. The low hum of machinery surrounded him, his lab a hidden fortress of wires and algorithms, projects waiting to be realized. Yet his focus had shifted recently, ever since he'd caught wind of unsettling rumors regarding Commander Red's… motivations.
"He's a terrible leader, as all hell… all he wants is to be taller."
Jaku's words still echoed in his mind. The notion was ludicrous, almost laughable if it weren't so pointed. Red's ambition, a lofty vision of power and control—could it truly be this… trivial? Gero shook his head, a part of him refusing to believe it, but another part nudging him toward inquiry. If Red truly held such a simple, self-serving goal… what else had been hidden from me?
The scientist's fingers danced over a console, pulling up files marked Confidential. He started with Red's earliest plans for the Red Ribbon Army, intending to confirm the leader's genuine ambition. But as he sifted through plans and operational reports, a troubling pattern emerged. Time and again, the focus was on grandiose gestures and projects designed to enhance Red's image—extravagant offices, flashy displays of weaponry with minimal real-world application. Gero's eyes narrowed; he'd noticed these inconsistencies before but had dismissed them as eccentricities. Now, they read as something more sinister.
Project Dominance, an early initiative, supposedly aimed at world domination, was revealing. The details, though extensive, were oddly hollow, filled with vague assertions and lacking concrete steps. There were requests for state-of-the-art weaponry, extensive resources allocated to training grounds, but little for actual tactical planning. No effort to strategize against resistance forces, no contingency plans, only demands for loyalty and adoration.
"The organization isn't just misguided, they're misled…" Jaku's words again came back to him, lingering like an unwanted truth. It was unsettling. Dr. Gero's loyalty was solid, cemented by his belief in the Army's potential. Red Ribbon, to him, had always symbolized the triumph of intellect and order over the chaotic and supernatural forces threatening humanity. But this vision, this… ego-driven empire… seemed a betrayal.
He hesitated, then pulled up Red's personal correspondences. Security protocols walled off many sections, but Gero's status within the organization granted him access. In one exchange, he found an intriguing thread between Red and Assistant Black.
Email: Red to Black "Ensure the mechanized lift platform for my quarters is completed. I refuse to be seen from below like some common officer."
Gero's brow furrowed. His eyes flitted to a photograph attached to the email, showing a grandiose elevated throne, complete with gilded railings. Not just a platform, but a pedestal. Another email showed requests for modifications to uniforms, specifically insisting on additions to height. Gero felt his blood chill as realization dawned. The "Platform Project," ostensibly a tactical installation, was in reality a ploy to grant Red a literal boost in height.
Suddenly, Jaku's claims didn't seem so far-fetched. There was no evidence here of a man focused on uniting the world under a disciplined banner; instead, he saw a figure concerned with stature, image—self-aggrandizement. Gero shook his head. How could he, a man of science, have missed such blatant cues?
According to the official blueprints, Project Atlas was meant to be an armory overhaul, boosting the Red Ribbon's arsenal with advanced weaponry. But closer inspection showed only mechanized suits designed for "display purposes." Red had publicly boasted about their destructive potential, and yet the weaponry was non-functional. Merely props to further glorify his image, to frighten those he deemed inferior. Even if they seem to be used as overly expensive fork lifts or cargo movers nowadays.
A sudden anger surged in Gero, not only at Red but at himself. For how long had he labored under a delusion, crafting mechanisms he believed were for the world's salvation when, in reality, they were for a man's shallow ambitions? Have I wasted my genius, my potential on this egotistical fool?
His mind raced, latching onto Jaku's mention of the "consequences", even more of a warning that his devotion to Red Ribbon's cause was misguided. He scrolled to reports on recent missions targeting civilians who dared resist Red Ribbon's forces—another reminder of Red's callous disregard for the world's welfare. Dr. Gero realized his hands had helped enforce the rule of a leader who prioritized fear over genuine leadership.
Gero knew he was too deep within the organization to turn away without consequences. But Jaku's mysterious knowledge, his hints of what lay beyond Red's scope, stirred something in him. Was there a future in which my talents could truly benefit humanity? His inventions could, perhaps, serve a different purpose—should he choose to wield his knowledge against Red Ribbon, rather than for it.
Pulling himself away from the console, Gero found his mind racing with possibilities. He would proceed cautiously, and observe further. He'd verify Jaku's claims, every detail of them. But one thing was clear; the foundation upon which he'd built his loyalty had cracked, revealing a hollow core. And now, as a scientist, he had no choice but to follow the path of truth.