A GOD'S WAY OF JUDGEMENT

The city was quiet, the streets bathed in the soft glow of streetlights as the cab moved through the night. Inside, Ronan leaned back against the seat, his eyes staring out of the window, the weight of the world pressing down on his shoulders. His mind replayed the events of the summit, the terror in the world leaders' eyes, the realization of his power settling over the planet like a storm.

The cab driver, an older man with a graying beard, glanced at Ronan in the rearview mirror. His breath caught in his throat as the recognition hit him—he was driving the most feared man in the world. But he wasn't one to be easily rattled. He'd seen a lot in his life, and he wasn't about to let fear show. Instead, he chose humor, a way to mask the tension he felt.

"Sir," the driver said, his voice calm but laced with a nervous edge, "looks like you're very cruel to people." He glanced in the mirror again, trying to gauge Ronan's reaction, but Ronan's face was an unreadable mask.

Ronan's lips curled into a slight smile, though there was no warmth behind it. He sat up straighter, his eyes still fixed on the road ahead. "The world is very cruel," Ronan replied in a low voice, his tone matter-of-fact. "To survive in it, you have to be crueler, kid. Do you know... I was actually very kind once." His voice dropped even lower, almost a whisper now. "But I'm not anymore."

The driver swallowed, his hands gripping the steering wheel tighter. He was quiet for a moment, unsure if he should say anything. But curiosity got the better of him. "And what happened?" he asked, his voice tentative but genuinely curious. "What made you stop being kind?"

Ronan didn't answer right away. The cab moved through an empty intersection, and for a moment, the only sound was the hum of the engine and the occasional whoosh of wind outside.

Finally, Ronan spoke again, his voice softer this time, but filled with an intensity that made the driver shiver. "The world broke me," Ronan said, his eyes narrowing slightly. "It always breaks people—those who try to be good, at least. You learn that kindness doesn't matter when the world just takes and takes without giving anything back."

The driver didn't know how to respond to that. His grip tightened on the wheel as the weight of Ronan's words hung in the air. There was a long silence, and then, almost to himself, the driver muttered, "I don't know... I still try to be good. Even when the world feels like it's going to crush you, I try to find light in it."

Ronan's expression shifted slightly, the coldness in his eyes softening for a split second. "Look for light in the dark, huh?" he repeated, his voice almost contemplative. "That's a good line. You're right." He paused. "I used to think like that. But now, I see light as a way to fight back. Not just for myself, but for others. To make sure no one else is crushed."

The driver turned his head briefly to glance at Ronan, taking in the man who could level entire countries, who had the power to obliterate the world with a thought, and yet was talking about light in the dark.

"You really believe that?" the driver asked, a little incredulously.

Ronan nodded slowly. "I do." His voice grew more serious. "But that light is also something you have to protect, or it's just a flicker in a sea of darkness. And that's why people like me exist—to make sure it doesn't get snuffed out."

The driver remained silent, absorbing the weight of Ronan's words. He glanced at the clock on the dashboard, then back at Ronan in the mirror, his own heart racing slightly. "Well," the driver said, after a long pause, "I guess that means... we're all just trying to survive, huh? Trying to stay good, even when the world's got its own plans for us."

Ronan's smile returned, a thin, almost imperceptible curve of his lips. "You're right, kid. You keep trying to find that light. That's all you can do. But remember," Ronan's voice grew softer, but colder, "if the world comes for you... you have to be ready to be crueler than it."

The cab came to a sudden halt at a red light. The driver shifted his gaze to the rearview mirror once more, studying Ronan. "Look for light in the dark, sir," the driver said quietly, the words now carrying a different weight. "It's all we have."

Ronan's eyes met his, and for a brief moment, the cold, menacing aura that surrounded him seemed to dissipate, leaving behind something almost human. "It was fun with you," Ronan said, his tone surprisingly gentle. "Goodbye, kid."

The driver blinked, still in disbelief at the strange encounter. As Ronan stepped out of the cab and walked into the night, the driver shook his head in confusion. "Did he just call me 'kid'?" he muttered to himself. "I'm a man in my 60s…"

He sat there for a moment, the weight of the encounter sinking in. And as he drove away, he couldn't shake the feeling that he'd just met someone capable of anything—someone who was as terrifying as he was human.

Ronan stepped into the company building, his presence casting a heavy shadow over the room. Everyone who recognized him immediately looked away, avoiding his gaze. The air was thick with fear and tension.

As Ronan passed through, the employees whispered in hushed tones, their anxiety palpable. One young employee, barely in his twenties, watched Ronan with wide eyes. Unable to resist, he slowly walked up to him, his footsteps hesitant but determined.

"Sir, you were... you were so cool at the summit," the young man said, his voice almost trembling with excitement.

Ronan, who had grown used to fear and wariness from those around him, looked at the young man in surprise. His expression softened, though only slightly. "Really? I looked cool, huh?" he replied, a faint smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. He said it with an almost childlike tone, as if the idea of being admired was new to him, or at least unexpected. "I know, right? I am great," he added, almost teasing, though the underlying arrogance was clear.

The young man, who was now grinning, nervously extended his hand. "I'm Alex," he said. "I just finished my internship here."

Ronan looked down at the offered hand, and after a brief hesitation, shook it. "Nice to meet you, Alex."

After a beat of silence, Ronan surprised Alex by asking, "How about you and me grab some coffee?"

Alex blinked in disbelief. He wasn't sure if this was some sort of test, but the invitation was real. He nodded eagerly, his nerves still buzzing, but his admiration for Ronan growing with every second.

Celia, who had been observing the exchange from a distance, felt a pang of realization deep in her chest. She had been watching Ronan for so long, but in that moment, something struck her—Ronan hadn't changed. He had grown crueler in his mission, yes, but in everything else, in his interactions with people outside of the war, he was still the same man. The same Ronan she had known.

The cruelty he displayed was only ever directed at those who stood in his way. Everyone else, like Alex, was still treated with a different sort of casualness, one she had seen before.

She sighed, realizing just how complicated he had become. His kindness was buried deep, hidden behind a wall of power and fear, but it was still there. Just as it always had been.

The coffee shop was quiet, the hum of the espresso machine a constant background to their conversation. Ronan sat across from Alex, both sipping their drinks in a comfortable, almost casual atmosphere.

Ronan broke the silence, looking at Alex thoughtfully. "So, tell me, "He began, his voice low but curious. "Where did you get the courage to talk to me back at the company? Most people would've run the other way."

Alex glanced down at his cup for a moment, clearly considering how much to reveal. He took a breath and finally looked Ronan in the eye. "At first, I was afraid of you, too. Just like everyone else. I mean, who wouldn't be, right? You're... well, you're Ronan. You could crush us all without blinking."

Ronan's eyes narrowed slightly, but he didn't interrupt, letting Alex continue.

"But then," Alex paused, shifting a bit in his seat, "my dad called me." His gaze was steady now, as if he had already decided to share everything. "He was the cab driver who dropped you off at the airport this morning."

Ronan's expression shifted in surprise. He remembered that cab ride—the calm, almost wise way the driver had spoken to him. It felt like hours ago, but it was just that morning.

Alex continued, his voice steady. "My dad told me about the conversation you had in the cab. He said you were... different. Not like the monster everyone thinks you are. He said you were human, and that you weren't just cold, calculating villain."

Ronan's lips parted slightly, a mixture of disbelief and amusement flickering in his eyes. The conversation with the cab driver had left an impression on him, but hearing that Alex's father had spoken so kindly of him was unexpected.

"My dad told me to be brave," Alex said quietly, "that maybe you're not what the world thinks. And you know what? I guess he was right." Alex smiled slightly, looking at Ronan with a new sense of understanding. "I was afraid to talk to you at first, but then I realized maybe you're not as bad as they say. Maybe you're just trying to do what you think is best."

Ronan leaned back in his chair, taking a moment to process this. He had always been seen as a ruthless, calculating force, and now someone was seeing him as more than that—someone who could be human.

He let the words sink in before speaking again, his tone softer now. "Your father... he seems like a wise man."

Alex nodded, a small smile on his face. "Yeah. He's always been like that."

Ronan nodded slowly, a faint smile tugging at his lips. "It's strange. People see power and fear, but they rarely look beyond it. You see things differently."

Alex shrugged, his voice a little lighter now. "Maybe. But my dad says, 'Sometimes people aren't what they seem.' I guess you're living proof of that."

Ronan let out a small laugh, but it was a dry, almost sad sound. "Maybe," he said, leaning forward slightly. "Maybe we're all monsters in our own way."

As Ronan and Alex walks down the hallway toward the chairman's office, their conversation is light-hearted, filled with laughter. The tension of the company seems to fade away around them, replaced by a genuine moment of camaraderie.

Certainly! Here's the revised version with a different conversation topic:

"Man, I really think you pulled that off well in the summit?" Alex says, still chuckling.

Ronan grins, a rare spark of amusement crossing his face. "Pulled it off? I didn't just pull it off. I made them feel it. That's the trick, you know? The world doesn't respond to power alone—it responds to fear and awe," he says, his tone casual, as if he's explaining a simple concept.

Alex chuckles, glancing over at him. "Yeah, I bet. But it must have been intense. You made all those leaders look like they were about to faint."

Ronan laughs lightly. "Well, that's the point. If you want to get your way, you have to make it clear there's no other choice."

Alex nods thoughtfully, still a little amazed by how effortlessly Ronan exudes power. "You know, I used to think it was just about strength. But seeing you do it... it's not just about brute force, it's knowing how to control the room."

Ronan shrugs, his smile turning sly. "Strength is just the beginning. Control comes from knowing how to play the game. And I play it better than anyone."

The two of them share a few more laughs as they approach the chairman's room. Employees in the hallway look on, their eyes wide in shock at the sight of Ronan interacting so casually with Alex, a young intern. Whispers ripple through the air, as everyone can't quite believe what they're seeing. The air feels lighter, if only for a moment, as they walk past a sea of curious onlookers.

Ronan, noticing the eyes upon them, smirks and pats Alex on the back. "Let's exchange contact info, Alex. You seem to have a good sense of humor. Might need that around here," he says.

Alex, still stunned by the fact that Ronan is so casually engaging with him, reaches into his pocket and pulls out his phone. They exchange numbers, both chuckling at how absurd the situation is. Ronan, despite the dark power he wields, seems to enjoy this brief, human connection.

As they near the chairman's room, Ronan turns to Alex. "It was fun talking with you. I think you're going to do well here."

Alex, still trying to process the surrealness of the moment, nods. "Thanks, Ronan. It was… pretty cool meeting you. I won't forget it."

The door to the chairman's room opens, and Ronan steps inside. But the moment Alex is left alone in the hallway, a swarm of employees surrounds him. Their curiosity is insatiable. Everyone has a question, a comment, or an opinion about the interaction they just witnessed. Whispers flood the air, and Alex feels like he's suddenly in the spotlight.

"Did you really just talk to him like that?!" one employee asks, wide-eyed.

"How did you manage to stay so calm?" another wonders, clearly envious of Alex's apparent lack of fear.

Alex, now overwhelmed by the attention, gives a nervous chuckle. He looks around at the employees, who are hanging on his every word, waiting for him to share some secret.

"I—uh—yeah," Alex says, fumbling slightly. "I mean, at first, I was scared like everyone else, right? But then he just… talked. Like, he's not what everyone thinks. He's—well, he's actually kind of normal, you know?"

The crowd grows even more eager to hear his thoughts. One employee press further, "Do you really think he's not dangerous?"

Alex hesitates for a moment, his eyes darting around as he recalls the tension from the summit. "I mean, don't get me wrong. He's powerful, and I can see why people are scared of him. But when you talk to him? It's like he's a person, not just… you know, the monster everyone says he is. He said he used to be kind, but the world changed him. Maybe that's the truth."

The employees exchange looks of disbelief. Some are in awe, while others are visibly conflicted. The shift in how they view Ronan starts to take root, especially after Alex's candid perspective.

But before anyone can ask more questions, a supervisor pulls Alex away, likely to distract him from the gathering crowd. However, the conversations about Ronan and his humanity linger in the hallways, with the employees' views of the man who could destroy nations beginning to shift ever so slightly.

Ronan stepped into the spacious chairman's office, sunlight filtering through the large glass walls, casting a warm glow over the room. Celia was already there, busy with some papers, her face focused on the task at hand.

"Hey, Celia," Ronan said, his voice calm but laced with a subtle hint of humor. "Why don't you take your rightful place?" He gestured to the chairman's seat, the one she had occupied before everything shifted.

Celia looked up, slightly confused. "You want me to sit there?"

"Yeah," Ronan replied with a shrug, his smile soft but genuine. "It's yours, right?"

She hesitated, then sat down in the chair. It seemed almost natural for her, even though everything had changed. Ronan walked over to the glass wall, his gaze lingering on the city outside.

After a moment of silence, Celia spoke up. "Ronan, it's only been three days since you woke up. Three days. How have you managed to do all of this?"

Ronan turned to face her, his hands casually in his pockets. "Yeah, I know, it's been a lot in three days," he said, almost matter-of-factly, as if the answer was obvious. "On the first day, I handled everything related to armor and the machines. And you made sure the report for the weapons was handled using company resources. On the second day, I took 90% of the shares here. Then I went to those negotiations and—well, finished off a country. And today, I flew to Country S for the summit and then came back here in the afternoon. Met a good employee on the way." He gave her a glance, the corners of his mouth turning up. "And now I'm talking to you."

Celia blinked, her arms crossing as she looked at him. "Okay, I know all of that, but why are you telling me like it's some kind of checklist?"

Ronan shrugged nonchalantly; his expression relaxed. "Haven't I always done this?"

Her heart skipped a beat at the familiarity in his words. It was as if nothing had changed between them—not the world, not the stakes, not even him. Despite everything that had happened, the man before her was still the one she knew.

Celia blushed, suddenly aware of the closeness in their connection. She chuckled softly, shaking her head. "You're impossible, you know that?"

Ronan smiled, his eyes warm and sincere. "Only because you make it look so easy."

Ronan walked over to Celia, the weight of the conversation still lingering in the air. He leaned against the desk, his voice casual but tinged with a quiet seriousness.

"I know I've asked a lot of you, Celia," he said, his tone softer than before. "But I need one more thing."

Celia looked up; her eyebrows raised. "What now?"

He hesitated for a moment, as though considering how to phrase it. "I want a new identity."

Celia blinked in surprise, unsure if she'd heard him correctly. "A new identity?" she repeated, her voice slightly wary. "You mean…?"

Ronan nodded; his expression serious but with a faint smile tugging at his lips. "Yeah. I've done everything I needed to do—secured my position, completed the secondary task. Now, I want to relax. You know that kid, Alex, the one doing his internship here? I want to go to his college. I want to live there, blend in as if I'm just some rich second-generation kid, you know? Just another one of the privileged."

Celia raised her eyebrows, her surprise slowly giving way to curiosity. "You want to live in a college?"

"Yeah," Ronan said with a small chuckle, walking over to the window and looking out at the city. "I want to pay thrice the fees, just to make sure no one questions my place. And I'm serious about it. I want to spend the next decade keeping it all up. It's like... I've done the heavy lifting, now I just want to enjoy life."

Celia watched him, her expression softening. She knew this was his way of asking for a break, a way to unwind without the relentless pressure of power hanging over him. "So, you're asking me to handle the company, make sure everything runs smoothly while you just... enjoy yourself?" she said, her voice playful but with an underlying concern.

Ronan grinned, his eyes gleaming with that familiar mischievousness. "Exactly. You take care of all the business stuff, make sure the money keeps flowing. I'll relax. Live the lavish life. Maybe even start a new hobby. What do you think?"

Celia couldn't help but laugh, shaking her head at how absurd yet entirely fitting the request was. "You really are something else, Ronan."

He gave her a sly grin, his eyes sparkling with the thrill of the idea. "I know. But hey, someone has to enjoy the spoils, right?"