In a dimly lit briefing room beneath a desert facility, Jacob Rothschild stood before a holographic projection of Earth, glowing with threat markers.

“Every nation pulled out,” he said quietly. “One by one. Budgets, politics, denial. All of it.” He paused, then added, “All except Israel. They’re the last ones still funding what remains of the 1994 X-COM initiative.”

Joe Jukic leaned forward. “So it’s real? Not just a game, not just rumors?”

Rothschild gave a thin smile. “It was never just a game.”

Across the room, Tom Cruise crossed his arms, intense as ever. “And the alien threat?”

“Closer than anyone wants to admit,” Rothschild replied. “Which is why I made… unconventional investments.”

Joe raised an eyebrow. “You mean Scientology?”

Rothschild nodded. “Church of Scientology was never about replacing faith—it was about preparing minds. The Catholic Church dismissed extraterrestrial life for centuries. Humanity needed some framework to accept what’s coming.”

Tom Cruise stepped closer. “You’re saying belief systems are part of planetary defense?”

“Exactly,” Rothschild said. “If people panic, we lose before the first shot is fired.”

Joe looked back at the hologram, watching red signals blink across continents. “So you sank your entire fortune into this?”

Rothschild’s voice hardened. “Everything. Not for power. Not for legacy. For survival.” He gestured to the Earth. “This is our mother planet. And right now, it’s outnumbered.”

A long silence filled the room.

Tom finally broke it. “Then what’s the plan?”

Rothschild tapped the console. The hologram shifted—unknown craft appeared in orbit.

“We rebuild X-COM,” he said. “Quietly. Ruthlessly. And this time… we don’t wait for the invasion to begin.”

Joe exhaled slowly. “So it’s not a conspiracy anymore.”