A GOD'S WAY OF JUDGEMENT

9- Fool maker

The car hummed smoothly as Ronan and Alex drove through the city's bustling streets. The evening sky was darkening, casting long shadows as they approached the news station. Ronan, deep in thought, glanced over at Alex before speaking.

"We're about to do something that will change how the world sees me," he said, his voice calm yet purposeful.

Alex, sitting beside him, gave a nod. "What's the plan?"

Ronan smiled faintly. "Tonight I fool the world."

Ronan says it "Authority Cancel". With his face return to original.

Alex seeing this says "Why change again ronan?"

Ronan chuckled softly. "It's necessary."

The car rolled to a stop outside the news channel's building, its lights blazing brightly. Ronan stepped out of the vehicle with a calm, steady stride, his presence alone enough to make the air feel heavier. Alex followed behind, but there was a sense of anticipation—this wasn't just an ordinary appearance. Ronan was setting the stage for something monumental.

They entered the studio, and the crew moved quickly, ushering them to the set. The news anchor, a woman with sharp eyes and an authoritative tone, greeted Ronan and Alex.

"Mr. Ronan Arcanveil, it's an honor to have you here," the anchor said, her voice trembling ever so slightly. There was an air of forced professionalism, but the fear behind her words was undeniable. "This is a live broadcast, and many are watching. Why did you request this interview?"

Ronan sat in his chair, his presence commanding the attention of everyone in the room. The pressure was palpable. The crew also moved with a remarkable sense of urgency, knowing full well the man they were dealing with. Alex sat off to the side, behind the staff, watching the interviews begin.

Ronan's voice was soft and deliberate as he answered. "I know the whole world is Afraid of me right now, but your fear is misplaced. Your fear comes to the wrong face."

Anchor's eyes widened, and a bright look of fear crossed his face. "What do you mean by that, Mr. Arcanveil?" she asked. The other workers stood in shock as they looked at each other, some evidently uncomfortable with the weight of Ronan's word.

Ronan smiled subtly, his cold gaze locking with the camera. "The face you're seeing now—the one you believe to be mine—is not my true face. It's not the one that terrorized the world."

The room was strangely quiet. Everyone's eyes turned to the door, where a man stepped into the studio. He looked excatly like the face the world feared—the face of Ronan Arcanveil.

The staff froze. Her eyes widened. The pressure in the room became almost unbearable. Alex saw the fear written on the faces of the crew, the shaking hands of the photographer, the wide, menacing eyes. Just like as he wanted.

Ronan's voice cut through the shock. "Look," he continued, "this man you know as Ronan Arcanveil was never the real me. I used his face to terrorize the world. And now, it's time to reveal the truth.The man who you believed to be Ronan Arcanveil is just a pawn in my game, my loyal subject, controlled by fear."

As Ronan finished speaking, he slowly began to change his face, shifting through various identities, each one more unrecognizable than the last. The man who had once stood as the symbol of power, destruction, and terror was now shifting into nothing more than a face in a crowd.

The camera snapped every moment. The staff were still visibly too nervous, their hands shaking as they tried to put the film on. The news reporter's face was colored, his silence wobbling at the edges.