[The Shattered Void - Pantheon Holdings LLC Server Farm]
The new Chief Technology Officer of the Pantheon Group stood in the freezing, purple expanse of the Shattered Void. Valerius, the four-armed celestial engineer, stared at the Tycoon's Ledger pulsing on a makeshift obsidian desk.
"Principal Thorne," Valerius began, his extra hands nervously adjusting his new corporate tie. "I have drafted the runic blueprints for our first proprietary dimension. It will feature hand-crafted nebulae, a self-sustaining magical ecosystem, and artisanal ley-lines woven from pure starlight. It will take approximately three centuries to render."
Victor Thorne took a slow sip of his black coffee. His midnight-blue suit was immaculate.
"Three centuries is an unacceptable development cycle, Valerius," Victor stated smoothly. "And artisanal craftsmanship does not scale."
Victor tapped his gold-nibbed pen against the blueprints, crossing out ninety percent of the celestial runes.
"We are not building bespoke universes for the Gods anymore," Victor explained, his Tycoon's Aura radiating absolute, predatory efficiency. "We are launching Pantheon Estates. A premium, multiversal real estate subdivision. I want you to strip the Creation Magic down to its absolute bare minimum."
Valerius gasped. "The bare minimum? Sir, if I remove the atmospheric buffering and the localized gravity variances, it will just be a flat plane of generic green grass under a static blue sky!"
"Exactly," Victor smiled a cold, calculating smile. "It's a blank canvas. An empty lot. We will mass-produce these flat, identical dimensions using a simple copy-paste script. We can render ten thousand of them a day at almost zero cost."
Princess Ignis, standing guard nearby, tilted her head. "Who is going to buy a boring, flat, empty dimension?"
"The one percent, Ignis," Victor checked his gold pocket watch. "Kings. Archmages. Retired Chosen Ones. People with massive hoards of Pantheon Tokens who are desperate for absolute privacy and tax evasion. We will market them as 'Exclusive Blank-Slate Private Realms'."
Victor turned back to his horrified CTO.
"Copy the asset. Paste it ten thousand times," Victor ordered, slashing his pen across the Ledger. "We are going to sell cheap, prefabricated reality at a five thousand percent markup."