Cerberus Directorate

Officially, the Directorate is ruled by three enigmatic figures collectively known as the Triarchs. Primus is the iron fist of the organization, ruling over the military and city's security forces. Secundus is the mind shaping Detroit's future. They handle the scientific divisions, including technology and infrastructure of the city. Tertius is the voice of the Directorate and the head of its diplomatic division. Of the Triarchs, he's the only one who makes public appearances. The other two communicate via broadcasts and holographic appearances.   Such anonymity has led to a number of conspiracies surrounding the existence of the Triarchs. Some suspect that the Cerberus Directorate is run by a cult of billionaires who want to rebuild their empires, others think that the original Triarchs died years ago and were replaced by artificial copies. Transitions of power in the triarchy are public knowledge, but the true identity of its members, both past and present, are unknown. Even high-ranking officials in the Directorate don't have access to this information.   The hierarchy that the Cerberus Directorate operates is rigid and controlled with various divisions specializing in different aspects of governance, control, and expansion. The military enforces order through security forces, weapons development, and intelligence and surveillance operations. The medical division oversees healthcare, medication production and distribution, genetic engineering, and human experimentation. The science division focuses on technological advancements, such as cybernetics and other forms of biotechnology.   The political division is the face of the Cerberus Directorate. They manage the group's diplomatic affairs, propaganda, and psychological operations to ensure continued loyalty of their people. Education isn't currently used as a tool of indoctrination. The Directorate maintains their image with the younger generations through historical omission. The agricultural division oversees food production and distribution, as well as water treatment. Because these resources are necessary for the entirety of the population, they represent a powerful tool for control. As such, the Cerberus Directorate has a tight hold on them.   Each major division has smaller subsects within them. Because of the Directorate's efforts on multiple fronts, Detroit is a cradle of knowledge. Said knowledge isn't easily accessible, and it's almost impossible for most outsiders to access without a scribe's permission. The city prides itself on its technological advancements as well as the standards of care for its citizens.

Life under the Cerberus Directorate's rule is a paradox. It's structured yet precarious, safe yet suffocating. Compared to the lives of those living outside of the city's walls, Detroit's civilians enjoy stability, but at the cost of their freedom. Despite that, they lead privileged lives. Citizens have access to food, water, shelter, and a basic education. Healthcare exists, but it's not universally available. Those deemed "valuable" by the Directorate's meritocratic system receive comprehensive care for little to no cost. This includes access to cybernetic implants or prosthetics, whether it's out of necessity or simply a cosmetic choice.   Despite Detroit being a fortified stronghold with resources that other communities lack, it's far from the utopia that it advertises itself to be. The Directorate's control over the city is enforced through an intricate web of surveillance, propaganda, and psychological conditioning. Military patrols roam the streets at all hours to monitor civilians under the guise of providing security. AI-driven surveillance systems track movement to detect dissent before it becomes a threat. All media within Detroit is closely managed in order for the Directorate to maintain their image as a benevolent force.   Criticisms of the organization are swiftly and quietly punished. Anyone who speaks out against the Cerberus Directorate is dealt with through various means, including blackmail and imprisonment. Some dissenters are made to disappear entirely. Those who are sick or injured and unable to afford healthcare run into a unique problem. Their lack of productivity puts them at risk of expulsion or exploitation in the Directorate's medical experiments. Many civilians are unaware of the organization's darker dealings. They dismiss the rumors of their cruelty as conspiracy theories.   Staged acts of generosity have cultivated a public that's either loyal to the Cerberus Directorate without question or is too afraid to resist them. Even those that see through their lies stay silent to not only protect themselves but their families. Orchestrated charity events, public speeches, and staged crises reinforce the idea that without the Directorate, Detroit, and civilization itself, would collapse.

The Cerberus Directorate's agenda is to paint itself as the savior of civilization and a necessary authority in a frighteningly chaotic world. They focus on concepts of unity, security, and progress, pushing the idea that without them, society would fall into ruins. The Directorate claims to be building a utopian future and offers protection and resources to those who submit to their leadership. Through their carefully maintained image, they're often portrayed as guardians ushering humanity into a new age in the wake of the Silent Scourge.   The Directorate itself frames their rule as a meritocracy. They reward those who contribute while dismissing opposition as ignorant, ungrateful, and dangerous. Through their media and strict surveillance measures, they reinforce the idea that compliance brings prosperity, while resistance leads to ruin. In order to build a brighter, better future, they and their citizens must be a united front. Beneath their polished image is their true goal: absolute control. They wield fear, coercion, and deception like weapons to maintain their power.

In 2045, when the Silent Scourge began sweeping through the world, the Cerberus Directorate saw a golden opportunity rather than a cataclysm. Its members feared disaster, much like everyone else, but they weaponized that fear in order to seize power for themselves. The foundation of the organization was positioning themselves as the only force capable of maintaining order. This allowed them to manipulate the public's desperation into unwavering support. The Directorate's construction of the city walls, their strict security measures, and relentless purge of infected individuals were sold as necessary evils to preserve what remained of humanity. They not only became a protector to their people but also an unchallenged ruler.   The most notable group that opposes the Cerberus Directorate are the Watchfire Rebels, a faction dedicated to exposing and dismantling their regime. The Rebels fight through direct conflict, but also through sabotage, information warfare, and public dissent. They thrust the Directorate's crimes into the light, disrupt their supply lines, and undermine their control at every available opportunity. Other groups resist the Directorate's dominance as well, including remnants of gangs chased out of Detroit and independent wasteland communities. The Directorate frequently skirmishes with scrappers that move onto their territory, posing both a technological threat and acting as a wildcard in an ongoing power struggle.   The Cerberus Directorate avoids the traditional imagery associated with its name. Instead, its emblem is a set of three red diamonds sitting on a wolf's head, representing the Triarchs and their control. The organization's colors are navy blue, gold, and white. The color palette conveys authority and wealth while also giving off the illusion of purity. Historically, wolves have been central to the Directorate's motif, reinforcing their narrative of loyalty and unity. The idea of a "pack" is heavily ingrained in their propaganda, encouraging civilians to see themselves as a part of a protective family.