'Well, I'll be damned.'
My first instinct, I'll admit, was pure, unadulterated nerd outrage. It was that knee-jerk, possessive feeling you get when someone suggests adding a new character to your favorite RPG party, or—God forbid—recutting a classic film.
'How dare she?' The artwork was perfect. The stories were timeless. They were sacred texts from a dead world, and I was their prophet. Who was this… this lawyer in a designer suit to suggest they needed 'adapting'?
But that initial, fiery reaction fizzled out almost as fast as it ignited. Because Sabine kept talking. And the woman wasn't just reciting corporate buzzwords; she was preaching. Her voice, usually so cool and measured, took on a warm, passionate energy. Her hands, which usually rested calmly on the table, started moving, sketching shapes in the air as she explained narrative pacing and character dynamics.
I leaned back, my earlier tension melting away into pure fascination. Here was this woman who looked like she'd just stepped out of a high-fashion magazine spread—all sharp angles, blonde hair in a perfect bob, clothes that probably cost more than my old car—and she was diving deep into the nuanced differences between Silver Age and Modern Age comic book storytelling with the fervor of a true believer.
The contrast was hilarious and utterly captivating. The model exterior vanished, and all I could see was a fellow geek, her eyes alight with the same fire that burned in me when I talked about my favorite stuff.
She wasn't some suits trying to sanitize my vision; she was a fan who wanted to make it better. For this audience. The realization was a little humbling, and a lot impressive.
"I mean no disrespect, sir," she said, and I could tell she genuinely meant it. She wasn't trying to pick a fight; she was trying to share a revelation.
"The story, plot, everything… it's perfection. Truly. But if we integrated the kind of adult elements that are standard here—the romantic tension, the mature relationships, the… well, the lifeblood of our stories—I would 200% guarantee it. Every title we release wouldn't just be successful. It would be hailed as the single greatest masterpiece ever made. It would transcend entertainment…. It would become culture."
Her words didn't just click; they unlocked a door in my mind I hadn't even realized was closed.
'Oh. Oh, right. Duh.' A goofy, almost embarrassed grin spread under my mask. I'd been so focused on meticulously recreating the sacred scriptures from my world that I'd completely forgotten to read the room. This room. This planet.
My brain started throwing up comparison charts. In my old world, a steamy sex scene in a mainstream comic would cause think-pieces and moral panics.
Here? It was Tuesday. In my old world, my relationship with Kate would be a complicated secret. Here? Grandma Nadia was giving us tips on lube. I'd been walking around in a society where sexuality was as normal and integrated as eating or breathing, and I'd still been building my empire with the training wheels of my old world's hangups still on.
Sabine wasn't telling me to slap gratuitous nudity on Captain America's shield. She was saying that in a world without shame, a character's romantic and intimate life wasn't a subplot—it was a core part of the main plot. It was depth. It was relatability. Ignoring it didn't make my stories classy; it made them feel sterile and weirdly naive to the people here. Like serving a five-star meal but forgetting the salt.
'Hey Sunday,' I thought, the mental ping feeling like a casual text to a friend. 'You getting all this? Run the numbers for me. If we let, say, Tony Stark actually has a real, messy, adult relationship instead of just quipping his way out of them… what does that do for us?'
Her response was instant, a stream of data that felt like it was painted on the inside of my eyelids.
"Modelling complete, Sir. Integrating the mature thematic and relational elements Mademoiselle Sabine describes correlates with a projected market penetration increase of approximately 285 to 310 percent. Critical analysis models predict a 95% probability of 'landmark masterpiece' designation from major publications. The suggestion is not merely valid; it is, by all measurable metrics, the optimal strategic path for cultural adoption. Also, my analysis of 'Captain Dicks' suggests its popularity is 82% reliant on its… integrated adult themes."
I had to stifle a laugh. Even Sunday was throwing shade at Captain Dicks. But damn. Over 300 percent? She wasn't just right; she was brilliant.
The room was so quiet you could hear the virtual photons bouncing around. Everyone was staring at me, waiting for the explosion. Amanda looked like she was about to pass out from holding her breath. Saiko had her professional mask on, but her knuckles were white where she gripped the edge of the table. Kate, though… Kate was just watching me, a tiny, knowing smile playing on her lips. She could probably tell from the way I'd gone still and quiet that I wasn't mad. I was recalibrating.
I let the silence hang for one more second, just for the drama of it all. The verdict was in. And it was time to deliver it.