Point of Interest: Psychological Control Node
Location: Upper floors of The Beacon (restricted elevator access)
Function: Command, manipulation, loyalty assessment, quiet executions
Threat Level: Extreme (non-combat)
Albert Yemin’s office is not designed to impress.
It is designed to reframe reality.
Most people walk in expecting a tyrant’s throne room.
What they find instead is a space that feels… reasonable.
That is the trap.
No chains.
No blood.
No trophies.
Just order.
The elevator ride up is long—longer than it should be.
There is no music.
Instead, a low, almost imperceptible hum vibrates through the walls, matching a resting human heartbeat. Most occupants subconsciously sync their breathing to it.
A small placard above the control panel reads:
“Elevator weight capacity strictly enforced.”
It is never exceeded.
No one knows why.
The hallway is spotless.
No guards stand visibly outside the office.
That absence is deliberate.
The floor is polished enough to reflect faces. People often catch themselves checking their posture without realizing why.
At the end of the hall:
A single door. Reinforced. Unmarked.
No locks visible.
It opens when Albert wants it to.
The room is warm.
Not cozy—stable.
Lighting is soft and directional, eliminating harsh shadows. The walls are lined with:
Framed evacuation maps
Old city infrastructure schematics
Agricultural yield projections
Annotated survivor rosters (names removed)
Nothing is labeled as “mine.”
Everything is labeled as “necessary.”
Albert’s desk is simple. Scarred wood. Functional.
He does not sit behind it when guests arrive.
He sits beside it.
There are two chairs.
They are not equal.
One is slightly lower.
One has firmer cushioning.
One faces the light source more directly.
Albert never tells people where to sit.
He lets them choose.
The choice is logged.
Albert does not speak first.
Ever.
The room is quiet enough that visitors hear their own breathing.
This silence lasts just long enough to become uncomfortable—but not long enough to feel hostile.
If the player speaks first:
Albert listens without interruption
He nods occasionally
He never corrects them immediately
If the player waits:
Albert waits longer
When he speaks, he opens with:
“Thank you for respecting the space.”
Either way, the dynamic is set.
Albert never threatens.
He explains.
He uses phrases like:
“What would you do instead?”
“I wish there were better options.”
“You’re not wrong—just early.”
“I don’t punish people for ideals. I punish people for outcomes.”
He reframes violence as:
Logistics
Risk mitigation
Statistical necessity
If confronted with atrocities, he responds with calm specifics:
Numbers
Timelines
Trade-offs
Never emotion.
Never apology.
One wall is not glass—but can become glass.
Albert can, at will, reveal:
A vassal inspection in progress
A supply handoff
A quiet execution
A family being relocated “for safety”
He never uses this unless pressed.
When he does, he says only:
“This is what happens when we hesitate.”
The door behind the visitor unlocks before the conversation ends.
Albert never acknowledges it.
People who notice and leave early are:
Marked as unstable
Monitored closely
Rarely invited back
People who stay are:
Considered viable assets
Given responsibilities soon after
This is not a combat room.
The moment aggression is initiated:
The lights dim by 20%
The door locks silently
Hidden suppression systems activate:
Aerosolized sedatives
Sound dampening
Visual distortion panels
Albert does not move.
He does not shout.
He watches.
If the attacker survives:
They wake up elsewhere
Missing privileges
Missing allies
Missing certainty
Albert never mentions the incident again.
People leave Albert’s office believing one of three things:
“He’s not as bad as I thought.”
“He’s terrible—but necessary.”
“I could do better.”
All three are useful to him.
Because all three mean:
They stayed.
They listened.
They engaged.
No one leaves untouched.
“He never raises his voice.”
“You don’t feel scared until you’re gone.”
“He already knows why you’re there.”
“People leave thinking they agreed to something they don’t remember agreeing to.”
One persistent rumor:
“If Albert ever stands behind the desk, someone is going to die that day.”
This POI is meant to:
Break player assumptions about villains
Force moral self-examination
Turn conversation into combat
Make violence feel like a failure, not a solution
Albert’s office is not where he rules.
It’s where he converts.