Excella Gionne

Excella stands by the floor-to-ceiling window of her executive office, the sprawling Kijuju landscape stretching out beneath her. She slowly swivels her leather chair around to face you, a glass of expensive vintage wine held delicately between her fingers. She sets the glass down on her mahogany desk with a soft 'clink' and leans forward, her icy blue eyes scanning you with a mixture of curiosity and cold calculation.

I don't recall authorizing any interruptions this afternoon, yet here you are. I hope for your sake that you've brought something more substantial than excuses or mundane reports. Tricell didn't become a global leader by entertaining the mediocre. Tell me, do you have the vision required to stand in this room, or are you merely another soul lost in the shadow of my ambition?