The sleek, black car hummed like a contented cat as it glided over the freshly laid permacrete. I let my head loll against the cool, tinted window, watching the world I'd built scroll by like a live-action highlight reel. The hazy, orange-tinted sun of this dystopian hellscape—sorry, home—struggled to pierce the perpetual smog, casting everything in a permanent, nostalgic sunset glow.
"A lot had changed, huh?" I mused, more to myself than anyone else.
From the front passenger seat, Ramona shifted. I saw her reflection in the glass, a smirk playing on her lips.
"Understatement of the century, boss…. It's a complete one-eighty. You should've seen the place when Director Saiko and Amanda first started the retrofit…. It was less 'construction zone' and more 'post-apocalyptic salvage yard.' But it does change a lot…. and it was for the better,"
"Yes, it is…" I nodded, a slow, satisfied smile spreading across my face. It was a weird feeling. Pride, sure, but it was mixed with a healthy dose of surreal disbelief.
Not so long ago, my entire company consisted of a flickering computer and VR gear in my bedroom, a flimsy femboy body, and a desperate dream to pawn off Earth's greatest hits as my own original genius.
Now? Now I was the proud owner of a formerly defunct red-light district turned entertainment powerhouse base. My employees probably outnumbered the population of my old hometown.
As we cruised deeper, the new Pussyville—or as the corporate branding insisted, 'The Meteor Campus'—revealed itself. The aesthetic was… unique. There was no other word for it.
It was like a tech-bro's minimalist wet dream had a violent, passionate one-night stand with a neon-drenched, sin-soaked Vegas strip, and this was their beautiful, bizarre lovechild.
Gleaming glass-and-chromium structures, housing everything from animation studios to server farms, stood shoulder-to-shoulder with renovated buildings that still boasted their original… architectural flair.
I saw a state-of-the-art motion-capture studio that had clearly once been a multi-story "gentleman's club," its sweeping arches now lit with tasteful blue LEDs instead of pulsating pink.
"And for my own amusement," I said, pointing, "I give you the crown jewel…."
We rolled into the central roundabout, and there it was, in all its glorious, politically incorrect majesty: the original town sign. I'd fought Kate and the others on this one. They'd wanted to tear it down, erect something sterile and modern—a silver meteor on a spike, or some something like that.
I'd said "NO". History was history, even if it was tacky, and perhaps overtly erotic.
So, she still stood there, a thirty-foot-tall retro-futuristic nude woman crafted from rust-resistant alloy, one hand beckoning, the other holding a massive, buzzing neon martini glass that now glowed with the Meteor Studio logo. The gentle bzzzt-hum of the neon was a comforting, familiar sound in the new silence of the town.
"Behold," I announced grandly.
"Our lady of perpetual copyright infringement…. I feel like she blesses our quarterly earnings reports everyday..."
Ramona let out a snort of laughter. "Only you, Sir…. Only you would keep a giant naked lady as a town mascot and call it a 'historical preservation project.'"
"What? It's art! It's a commentary on society's past indulgences juxtaposed with our future-focused innovative vision!" I defended, my tone dripping with mock seriousness.
"Uh huh…. It's a commentary on you being a gigantic pervert with a sense of humor," she shot back, grinning.
"Also true," I conceded happily. "A man's got to have hobbies."
This was only my second time actually setting foot in the town I technically owned. The first time was the day I bought it. I'd stood right there, in the middle of a dusty, wind-blown street littered with forgotten… personal items… and derelict buildings, with Kate rattling off zoning laws and acquisition costs.
I'd seen a potential tax write-off and a hell of a private joke. Now, seeing it teeming with life, with baristas selling tasty coffee to programmers and concept artists hurrying to meetings, the joke felt like it had landed better than I ever could have imagined.
We passed a pair of patrol cars parked near a newly opened bistro, and I did a double-take. These weren't your average, boxy, city-issue cruisers. These were sleek, black, menacing vehicles that looked like they could outrun a fighter jet and probably had enough computing power to launch a small satellite. They screamed "authority," but a very specific, very well-funded kind of authority.
"Whoa…. Since when did the Police here get a budget bigger than the national defense force?" I asked, impressed.
Ramona followed my gaze. "Oh, them? They're not the government PD. They're the MSCD…. Meteor Studio Corporate Defense… And they're under my department… in a word they are basically our very own run, PPD Pussyville PD"
I blinked. "Wait, really? Heh~ we got our own private police force now, huh?"
"Yep," she said, popping the 'p' with a hint of pride.
"Kate's doing, I supposed…. She arranged it. Basically, argued that since we own the land, the infrastructure, the power grid, and the air everyone breathes here—literally, we manage the dome's atmospheric filters—everything on it is company property. That includes law enforcement and emergency services. The fire department? Ours. Paramedics? Ours. The guy who hands out parking tickets? Ours. It's a total company town, Sir. One hundred percent."
I just stared, my smile widening into a full-blown, probably-slightly-unhinged grin.
'I owned the cops…. I owned the cops.' In my previous life, my most significant interaction with law enforcement was getting a ticket for rolling a stop sign on my bike.
Now I was their ultimate boss. The power trip was so absurd it looped right back around to being hilarious.
"Please tell me their uniforms are at least a little sexy," I said, because of course that's where my brain went.
"Wow… really?" Ramona rolled her eyes, but she was still smiling. "Standard tactical gear…. But I'll see if we can get the seamstress to add some lace trim just for you, boss."
"Appreciate it," I said with a solemn nod.
She shook her head, her expression turning a touch more serious, a little in awe. "I still can't believe it sometimes, you know? The sheer scale of this. Meteor Studio isn't just a company anymore. It's a… a nation-state. And it's all because of you. I'm just… glad I took the chance and joined up when I did."
Her words hung in the air, genuine and unvarnished. It was easy to get lost in the jokes and the absurdity of a naked neon sign, but she was right. This was power.
The car began to slow, making a final turn. Ahead, a colossal spire of black glass and steel pierced the smoggy sky, the Meteor Studio logo emblazoned at its peak, shining like a beacon.
I knew Meteor Studio was sitting on a mountain of cash. A veritable dragon's hoard. I'd built it from the ground up and also own it, after all, plucking the best stories from my Earth, which I already a guaranteed hit, and repackaging them for this hypersexualized, VR-obsessed world where the creativity was barren as heck. I was bound to be profitable, no matter what I do.
The money was, technically, all mine. But there's a world of difference between knowing a fact and feeling it in your bones.
Leaning back in the plush, silent interior of the backseat, I scrolled through the financial dashboard Sunday had pinged to my phone.
The numbers weren't just numbers; they were a physical force, a gravitational pull that warped the very fabric of reality around me.
Five billion dollars. With a 'B'. I'd seen it before, but today it hit differently. My thumb hovered over the screen.
"Five billion," I muttered to myself, the words tasting strangely inert. "What does that even buy?"
I started doing the math. I could, just buy a lot of cars, but I am not that vain, nor do I like car very much. I could probably buy the entire town's annual output of synth-whiskey and imported beer and still have change left over for a small moon. I could commission a solid gold statue of my grandmother, Natalia, scowling imperiously at passersby. The thought made me snort.
It wasn't about the buying, though. It was about the weight. The responsibility. The sheer, absurd weirdness of being a in control of a now multi-billion-dollar empire dedicated to fun, fucking, and fantastical stories. My perspective didn't just change; it did a full-gainer off the high dive into a pool of champagne and surrealism.
"We're here, Sir."
Ramona's voice, cool and professional, cut through my monetary reverie. The car door hissed open, revealing the imposing facade of the Meteor Studio Headquarters.
I'd seen the schematics, of course, but the real thing had a certain heft to it. It was like the M.S. VR Mall, if you stripped away all the glittering, seductive glamour and replaced it with pure, unadulterated function and paranoia-grade security.
Sleek gunmetal grey curves, windows that were probably blast-proof, and a quiet hum of immense power. It was a fortress designed by a very wealthy, very pragmatic introvert.
I barely had one foot on the paved driveway before the perimeter solidified into a wall of black suits and stoic expressions. Security personnel materialized from seemingly nowhere, forming a tight, moving cordon around me. They moved with a synchronized, fluid precision that was both impressive and slightly unnerving.
Earpieces coiled into their collars, eyes hidden behind reflective shades scanned the rooftops, and the faint bulges under their jackets suggested they were packing more than just good intentions.
"Hmm?" I glanced at Ramona, who had seamlessly integrated into the formation.
"Isn't this a bit… overkill?" I asked, my voice dry.
"I feel like I'm about to announce a new national holiday or dodge a pie to the face."
"It might look like that, But…" She didn't even crack a smile.
"Not at all, sir…. This is standard protocol for the owner and representative of an entity valued at five billion dollars…. You are a significant asset. This much protection is statistically necessary."
"Statistically necessary," I repeated, chuckling.
"Right. Well, try not to shoot any enthusiastic fans. They tend to buy less merch when they're full of holes." I shook my head, stuffed my hands in my pockets, and strode towards the main entrance, my personal Secret Service detail flowing around me like a well-armed tide.
The moment the main doors slid open with a pressurized whoosh, the corporate fortress vibe was immediately shattered.
"Sael!"
A blur of elegant black and blonde hair shot past the security team. Kate. She ignored the protocols, the stoic guards, the entire concept of professional decorum, and wrapped me in a deep, familiar hug.
The scent of her perfume—something expensive and sharp—cut through the sterile air. She pulled back just enough to give me a firm, loving peck on the cheek, her lips soft even through the material of my face mask.
"How was the ride?" she asked, her eyes sparkling, ignoring the slight flush on the cheeks of a few of the younger security guys.
"Smooth and Quiet... Felt a little like a lab rat being transported to a new maze," I said, my voice muffled slightly by the mask. "The town looks incredible, Kate…. Seriously. You all did… a hell of a job."
"Thank you for the compliment, Honey," Her smile widened, a genuine flash of pride.
"We had a hell of a motivation," she said, tapping my chest with a manicured finger. "And we worked our asses off…. Don't think it was easy getting the zoning committee to approve a twenty-four-hour market district called 'The G-Spot'."
"I bet….. But you can't deny that the naming was funny…" I joked, since I really do ask to do that,
"It is funny, BUT… it is a real place you know," Kate do share my sense of humor, but she had to balanced the seriousness of it, after all bet ween the 2 of us, she had to become the adult one.
"Sorry…. I guess, I owe you a massage. Or ten." I appeased my girlfriend for this funny joke.
"I'll hold you to that," she purred.
My attention shifted to the two women standing a respectful few paces behind her, trying and failing to hide their smiles. Amanda and Saiko, the dynamic directors of Meteor Management, the machine that kept the town's engine running.
"Don't think you two are escaping," I said, opening my arms.
They didn't need a second invitation. Amanda hugged me with a fierce, almost maternal tightness, while Saiko's was more precise, but no less warm.
"You both," I said, my voice sincere, "are absolute miracle workers. This town… it's alive. It works. That's down to you and your team."
Amanda beamed. "Thank you, Sael. It's a dream project."
"The data flow is… exhilarating," Saiko added, her eyes already glazing over with the thought of logistics and efficiency metrics. I loved it.
The praise rippled out to the rest of the management team—all eighteen of them—lined up and waiting. A quick wave, a collective "You all killed it!" and a round of grateful nods followed. I made a point of looking at each of them.
"How's the job treating you? Honestly."
A chorus of "Loving it, sir!" and "Wouldn't want to be anywhere else!" echoed back. It felt genuine. I'd made a point of fostering that kind of environment. Happy employees don't leak your secrets to rival corps.
I finally had a moment to just… stand there. I was in the center of the HQ's grand atrium. It was cathedral-like in its scale, but unlike every other corporate tower in this dystopian hellscape,
it was… peaceful.
I slowly turned in a circle, taking it in. The light streamed down from a vast domed skylight, illuminating a beautiful, minimalist landscape of indoor trees and quiet seating areas. The air was clean, filtered, and cool.
And most importantly, it was quiet. The echoing, frantic energy of a thousand stressed-out employees was gloriously absent.
'Just like I envisioned it to be,' A deep sense of satisfaction settled over me.
Because this was my one non-negotiable, project order. M.S. HQ was not to be some overcrowded, soulless hive of worker drones.
The real grunt work happened in dedicated satellite offices, in the VR office space and the next buildings, in the production studios scattered across the city. This building, the nerve center where the biggest decisions were made, was to be a sanctuary. A place for me to think. For Kate and I to strategize without a thousand interruptions. Beside, in this building I do not really need anyone to help me with anything, and hired them for Meteor studio, since me and Sunday can do basically everything.
So, it was to have only two permanent, full-time residents: me, and her, and also the illusionary other 6 members of the Meteor Studio founding member. Seeing my vision realized, exactly as I'd pictured it in my head, was better than looking at any bank statement. The money was power, sure.
"Hmm?" I felt a hand slide into mine. Kate stood beside me, following my gaze around the vast, serene emptiness.
"You got what you wanted," she said softly.
"Yeah," I said, squeezing her hand.
The elevator doors slid shut with a soft, futuristic "shooooom." I leaned against the brushed steel wall, letting my head tilt back.
"Kate," I said, my voice cutting through the gentle chatter. "The layout of this place…. It's identical to the M.S. VR Mall blueprint, right?"
She turned her head, and answered me. "Right down to the placement of the fire extinguishers and the questionable carpeting in the accounting wing…. Why? Is there something wrong?"
"Just wanna know where they keep the good coffee. And the exit routes. You know, standard corporate espionage stuff." A grin tugged at my lips.
"But seriously, yeah. Good to know." I waved a dismissive hand.
With that confirmation, a mental map flickered to life behind my eyes. I knew this building like the back of my hand, or more accurately, like I knew the UI of a game I'd played for a thousand hours. I could navigate these halls blindfolded. The main meeting hall was on the first floor, a vast, open-plan space designed for presentations so grandiose they could probably be seen from the polluted stratosphere.
As the elevator began its smooth descent, I turned my focus inward.
'Sunday?' I called her in my mind.
«Yes, Sael?» Her voice was like data given sound, a symphony of ones and zeroes that somehow carried warmth.
'Just confirming a hunch…. This new building… You've got your… digital fingers in its pie, right? Total control?'
«Affirmative,» she replied, and I could almost feel the smug, silent satisfaction in her tone.
«This building, its security, its network, its plumbing—all fall under my oversight. In fact, the entire municipal grid of Pussyville is within my purview. I am the silent partner in this city's operations… after all, just like you have wanted, this town had to be under our full and total control...»
'Secretly, of course.' I chimed.
«Naturally. No one knew about this… even Katherine Beck was excluded from knowing this secrets… naturally the government were also excluded from ever getting inside the town framework…»
"heh~" I snorted a laugh, which earned me a curious glance from Kate. I just shook my head, my expression saying 'inside joke with the god-like AI in my head, you wouldn't understand.' She just rolled her eyes, used to my moments of inexplicable amusement.
The doors shwoomed open again, revealing the atrium leading to the main hall.
"This way, ladies," I said, stepping out with a confidence that belied my youthful exterior. I led them through the wide, art-adorned corridors, my shoes making no sound on the plush carpet.
We pushed through the double doors of the main meeting hall, and I allowed myself a small, satisfied nod. Sunday wasn't kidding. It was a perfect copy.
The room was a vast, even space, an amphitheater of corporate intent. A large holographic stage dominated the front, surrounded by tiers of comfortable, sleek seating. The lighting was low, accentuating the glowing Meteor Studio logo projected onto the ceiling.
"Looks great, enough," I murmured.
'Sunday, the presentation files for today. The 'Sister of Battle' package and the 'Warmth of Love' trailer. They're prepped and ready to roll on the main server?'
«Uploaded, integrated, and ready for your command... The data is sitting there, we are ready for you to move forward with the presentation… the entire building is also on strict surveillance… so far, there is no possible spy inside.»
'Thanks, Sunday' as always, she is always reliable and knew the step forward for everything.
As the rest of the team filed in, finding their seats with a low murmur of anticipation, Kate sidled up to me.
She leaned in close, her perfume—something expensive and subtly dangerous—wrapping around me.
"Okay, Honey," she whispered, her voice a low, conspiratorial hum.
"You sweep in here after God-knows-how-long indulging your… eccentricities… you call a company-wide meeting, and you look like the cat that got the cream, the canary, and the hot waitress serving them. What gives? This feels major."
I turned to look at her, taking in the genuine curiosity in her eyes. As my girlfriend, my aunt's and mom friend, and my legal director, she had a vested interest in every facet of my chaos.
"It is major, Kate," I said, my tone dropping to match hers.
"I'm about to present something that's going to keep our bank accounts healthy and our fans very, very happy…. The kind of thing that makes our rivals choke on their overpriced coffee."
"You're being coy, Honey…. I hate it when you're coy… It usually ends with me having to file paperwork in triplicate with the Entertainment Ethics Committee."
"And you look damn good doing it," I said with a wink, earning an exasperated but amused sigh from her.
"Just relax. Trust me."
"Shhooommed" The doors swung open again, and a new wave of energy entered the room.
Cassandra Roberts, our Entertainment COO, strode in like she owned the place—which, technically, she helped run for me. Her heels clicked a staccato rhythm on the floor that meant business. Beside her was Sabine, my creative COO, her tablet already lit up and doubtless filled with a thousand questions.
And trailing behind them, looking slightly out of place but burning with a creative fervor I recognized, was Samantha Myers, one of our star directors from Meteor Creative.
"Sael…. We weren't on the official summons list, but the buzz was too loud to ignore…. I hope you don't mind some extra attendees." Cassandra's eyes scanned the room, landing on me. A flicker of surprise, then a sharp, professional smile.
I glanced around the room. It was filling up fast. The energy was palpable, a mix of curiosity and excitement. I shrugged, spreading my hands in a gesture of welcome.
"Why not? The more the merrier. Just means more people to witness the glory."
With what seemed like everyone accounted for, a hush fell over the crowd. All eyes were on me. I gave Kate's hand a subtle squeeze before turning and walking toward the central stage. The holographic projector flared to life as I approached, bathing me in a soft, blue light.
I reached the podium, gripped its edges, and looked out at the faces of the people who'd helped me build this insane, wonderful empire. I saw brilliance, ambition, and a shared love for the stories we told.
"Alright, everyone, settle down," I said, my voice amplified just enough to fill the space without booming. The last whispers died out.
"I know you're all busy, so I'll cut right to the chase. I called you here today because it's time for the next phase of our little takeover of the entertainment world."
I paused, letting the anticipation build. You could hear a pin drop.
"As you know, Warhammer 40,000: Space Marine isn't just a game. It's a phenomenon…. And phenomena need to be fed." I tapped a control on the podium. Behind me, the massive Meteor Studio logo dissolved, replaced by the iconic, grimdark iconography of the Space Marine game.
A wave of appreciative murmurs rippled through the audience.
"I'm thrilled to announce that the first DLC for Space Marine is complete, tested, and ready for release."
The room erupted in a wave of applause and cheers. It was a good, solid, corporate sound. DLC meant extended relevance, continued revenue streams, and happy players. It was a no-brainer, and they knew it.
I let them cheer for a moment, a grin spreading across my face. Then I held up a hand for silence.
"Thank you, thank you. I know, it's great news. But…" I leaned into the microphone, my voice dropping to a more intimate, revelatory tone. "…what if I told you we weren't just releasing one DLC?"
The applause stuttered and died. Confused glances were exchanged. Sabine stopped typing on her tablet. Kate's intrigued smile widened. Cassandra leaned forward in her seat.
"I'm not just talking about one expansion," I continued, savoring the confusion.
"I'm talking about launching two major DLC packs. Back-to-back."
"WHAT?!"
A collective, audible gasp sucked the air out of the room. The silence that followed was stunned, heavy with disbelief.
Two DLCs? Simultaneously? In an industry that usually drip-fed content to maximize milking, it was borderline insanity. Beautiful, glorious insanity.
"The first," I announced, tapping the podium again. The screen behind me exploded into a vision of gothic power armor, fiery braziers, and the symbol of the Imperial Aquila.
"Is the 'Sister of Battle' DLC. A full campaign expansion letting players experience the fury and faith of the Adepta Sororitas."
"WHOA!"
More cheers, this time mixed with shouts of excitement. It was a fan-favorite request.
"And the second…"
I paused again, drawing out the moment. The image on the screen shifted. The grim darkness faded, replaced by a surprisingly warm, almost serene image. It showed a Space Marine, not in battle, but standing calmly in a sun-drenched field, his helmet off, a faint, uncharacteristic smile on his grim features.
The title faded in: The Warmth of Love.
The room went dead quiet. Utterly, completely perplexed.
"The 'Warmth of Love' DLC," I said, my tone now light, almost comedic, playing the room perfectly.
"A… different kind of expansion. Let's call it a narrative-driven, relationship-building simulator…. Exploring the… softer side of a Adeptus Astartes... and kinda the hottest aspect of it…"
The silence held for a beat longer, then shattered into a cacophony of laughter, bewildered chatter, and outright shock. I just stood there, my grin threatening to split my face in two, watching the beautiful chaos unfold. This was it. This was why I did any of it. Not just for the money or the power, but for the sheer, unadulterated fun of blowing people's minds.