21 You Build Some, You Break Some
Obligatory Disclaimer : I do not own anything (except maybe OC characters) all characters, places, worlds, universes…etc mentioned here belong to their respective owners and/or companies.
This is purely a work of fiction. Not meant to offend or incite, but to entertain and (maybe) inspire
*.*.*.*.*.*
YOU BUILD SOME, YOU BREAK SOME
*.*.*.*.*.*
Hammer Industries HQ
New York City.
USA.
The immaculately dressed driver alighted from the H.L (Hover Line) Luxury Class vehicle and walked over to the passenger side. He pushed on the handle which lit with a green light, causing the door to glide upwards akin to an angel's outstretched wing.
I stepped out the vehicle, my eyes hidden behind shades as dark as the stylish suit I wore–Jacked picked them out. Eve wasn't available to tell me what was 'in style'. I miss my best girl already. I picked up my phone and checked on the condition of the gestation pod. It was stabilizing, which meant Eve could emerge soon, and that it was no longer burning a hole in my pockets. At least I still had some Vibranium left for myself.
I closed the display and walked through the entrance to the interior of my company's HQ, nodding at the guards who saluted as I stepped past them.
[Welcome back, Sir] The resident Virtual Intelligence greeted, downloading company related files that needed my attention into my device.
I saw some new faces amongst my employees. Some of them recognized me on sight, others didn't. Almost everyone was dressed casually–barring the guards and certain staff members– and moving in groups, having discussions ranging from design choices of company products, the implementation of meta-materials on existing technology, to functional calculations of game character physics aided by holographic simulations; the atmosphere was unmistakably positive and conducive to progress. It looked like –a page ripped out from a futurist's vision of a 2050 workplace—it was beyond its time.
No doubt due to the implementation of well thought out policies adopted, reworked and updated from the business models of the most successful companies from my Earth and the emphasis I placed on innovation and creativity. I noticed that some of the portraits I had drawn in my free time were all framed and hung on the colorful walls–HR and PR departments seem to be looking to get promoted.
I smiled, seeing the environment I had created with my own hands. Yeah, I'm a bad guy, but at least I'm making the world's future brighter, since I'll be here to see that future. Call it the considerations of an aspiring immortal.
I approached the elevator and waited for the doors to open. "Top floor" I spoke into the Voice console as I stepped inside, disregarding the option of clicking the tactile buttons.
I whipped out my phone and began sorting through work related files. Declining some that seemed to be going nowhere. Dealing with complaints made by employees and it seemed more than one person was going to be promoted. I valued talent, and to make talent value me too, I nurtured it. I approved other files. Adding missing elements to certain engineering problems, while resolving calculation inconsistencies and correcting errors in others that the resident engineers couldn't seem to wrap their head around recently, I needed more prodigious individuals working here.
Why would a prodigy come work for me? Lets ignore all the resources and freedom I provided and talk about the one thing 95% of people valued—Security. Some people don't want to climb Mount Everest to get pictures of its peak, they'd rather look online than face the arduous climb. There's nothing wrong with that. And in the same way, others didn't want to go out there and start their companies from scratch just to build something or make a difference. They'd rather have security than face the risks that came with setting out on your own. All this I learned by actually being in control of my own company. A very valuable lesson that I am grateful to have acquired without misfortune.
Confirming that everything was back to running at a 100% capacity and efficiency, I returned the phone to my pocket.
All this I accomplished before reaching the top floor. I had plans that would send my company half a century ahead of the competition that was already left in the dust. But that would lead to indigestion—people weren't ready to stomach half of what I had to offer, it was too much to swallow at the moment. All in due time; knowing when to sprint and when to walk was an essential skill in this business. I learned that the hard way, unfortunately.
The doors to my office slid open, and apart from how clean everything looked, the placement of all my hardcopy files and unfinished sketches remained exactly where I left them. I welcomed the wave of nostalgia that flowed in while I went about setting things in accurate order. Making sure style balanced functionality and everything was in place symmetrically.
'OCD issues' I laughed at myself as a side-effect manifested.
I sat on my chair and reclined easily. My spine was in heaven. Jack was busy running an errand for me, leaving me temporarily without an aide. Which was why I tasked Jack with hiring a secretary/personal assistant for the day to day company related issues only.
Jack's the butler, he's good at handling company related work but management was not his area of expertise. Eve is my partner, my right hand, she ran it all, but she didn't have the presence to direct everyone else in my stead. A good secretary, one who could expertly navigate the corporate jungle, one who had value to add to the company, was necessary.
The doors slid open, allowing the fairly tall, 5'7 lady with cascading stark white hair, entrance. "Sir, here are the files you requested." She said almost with no emotion, placing the documents on my desk. I noticed her fixation to the color white, judging from the creamy shade on her nails to the color of her immaculate office wear, which made her sharp red eyes standout all the more. To the way she stonily conducted herself.
But that was just her exterior. The hammer of her beating heart sounding in my ear was anything but calm or even entirely human for that matter.
"What's your name?" I asked, looking over the files.
"Ana Helstorm, sir"
"Helstorm" I let it roll on my tongue, realizing why I felt a sense of familiarity to her.
"Tell me, Helstorm. Why are you here?"
"I'm here to work, sir." She smiled.
"I find that hard to believe, demon." I stated, taking off the shades to stare right into her eyes.
"I'm only half demon, Prince of hell" She stared right back.
I rapped my fingers on the desk, wondering how I'd clean up the mess of demon blood and flesh, and the resulting consequences of such violent actions. She probably had a life and friends or family, after all it should have been in her background check—which I should get around to reading.
I never spotted her on my last trip to hell—it's a big place. And considering what I did to Mephisto, she shouldn't be here for revenge.
"You should be well aware of what I am capable of, not even your soul can escape my reach. I'd love to have this back and forth banter last longer, but I don't have the time for it. So tell me Satana, why are you in my office?"
"I just came here to work… and seek protection from the war."
"And how exactly can I trust that?"
"I can't harm you, even if I wanted to. Not because of the immense power in your possession, but because of the hierarchy. There are denizens below who think you should be seated upon the throne, they would come after me and my family should I raise my hand against you."
So she does have people she cares about. I wanted to give her the benefit of the doubt, I really did. But you know me and my glaring trust issues. My paranoia would eat me alive if I didn't take precautionary measures.
"You work for me to the very best of your abilities; you never go against me or betray me, my wishes or my orders, for as long as you live. And in return I offer you my protection, and of course you'll be provided for. The price for reneging, obviously, being your soul."
She rubbed at her creasing brows, thinking it over before finally speaking "I wish to add a clause."
"Let's hear it" to be honest, having someone connected to hell at my beck and call would be very useful. But what interested me more was the novelty of having a demon run in my company.
"You won't betray me, neither will you force me to end my own life or those I hold dear to myself. And the duration of the deal will last for a decade only. And it's only fair that you pay the price I do."
I ruminated over her conditions and found them…adequate. "Fine. In my authority as the Prince of hell, I Justin Hammer Von Doom, make this deal with Satana Helstorm, first daughter of the Arch-Demon. Whosoever first reneges on the terms applied here shall have their soul in the hands of the other. Do you accept?" I rose from my seat–blatantly towering over her— and stretched out an open palm, bleeding from a fresh cut in its center. I didn't know how to conjure the documents like Mephisto did. All I knew was what mattered— the essence of the deal.
"..I do." She hesitated for a moment, before convincing herself to go ahead with it. She pricked her thumb by biting it, when there was enough blood on it to wet her palm; she brought it to rest on mine. The moment our hands joined, I could feel the ethereal bindings come into place over my soul.
Bindings that connected me to her.
'Haha!' I frowned and clenched my jaw to hide the laughter that threatened to escape my lips. These bindings were enforced by the authority that foresaw our deal as well as the psychic emanation of order. They could not be removed unless the duration expired or one of us went back on our words—these were supposed to be the only options available.
But I wonder, who was it that had a concentrated mold of infinite power that just happened to correspond to all matters that dealt with the soul? Who was it that possessed an infinity gem that could shred these bindings with but a single command, and without any of the adverse effects registering?
'And they call the devil evil?' I did. I wouldn't put anything on my soul that I couldn't get rid of in the next moment.
"Welcome to Hammer Industries, Ms Helstorm, I am certain you'll enjoy it here" I said with a brilliant smile that made her blush.
'Like I wasn't trying to kill her just a moment ago'
Burning off the clotted blood on my palm, I took a sit and went on to scanning the documents one last time. I had all the names and information; it was time I took action.
I handed her the files, "Send Mr. Marlowe in and send my congratulations to the Senegalese branch, give them a paid for vacation to the Bahamas and please tell Mr. Jobe, that he has a spot here for him, whenever he wants it."
She nodded and took the papers. "Will that be all, sir?" She asked. To say I was pleased by her professionalism, would be an understatement to just how much I was satisfied by it.
"Yes, thank you." I nodded back.
She walked out. I slid my shades back on, and made a call to Jack.
"Is it done, Jack?"
[It is, Sir.]
"Good" The doors slid open and in walked Mr. Marlowe. A bald, middle aged man, with an amiable smile on his face. His thin framed glasses rested slightly down the bridge of his nose, most likely due to his tendency to stare downwards, a result of his height.
I gestured for him to sit. He smiled and pushed the glasses up.
[Sir, would you like to take the jet or will you be going by road?]
"Looks like I'll have to disappoint the ladies today, Jack. Get the jet."
[Very well, Sir.]
I ended the call, and turned to the man seated across me.
"Marlowe, before we begin, is there anything you'd like to tell me?"
The smile never left his face. "Yes. Weapons development have managed to up production by 5%, the implemented meta-materials have caused an increase in efficiency." His fingers tapped against the side of his thighs as he spoke.
I really don't have the patience for this bullshit, not today. I had places to be. "You must think this is a joke?"
"Excuse me, sir?" He frowned.
"I already know who you tried selling my weapons to. What I want to know is why?"
"I don't understand, sir" His heart betrayed the outward composure he mustered.
"One more chance; tell me the truth, the whole truth. And I'll let it go this time"
"…I don't know what you're talking about, sir"
That's it. "Very well, Mr. Marlowe. Pack your things and vacate the premises. I advise you to spend what time left you have making amends to your family"
"I-I don't understa--"
"You're fired, Marlowe. And before this day ends, you'll end up in a jail cell."
"I have done so much for this company! I have a family! You can't do this to me!"
"It was all in the contract, Marlowe. Your services weren't free, I recall you being paid handsomely. And I'm not doing anything to you; these are the consequences of your actions.
"And the 'I have a family' card? Really? C'mon, we both know you didn't think that way when you were inches deep in that young assistant of yours."
His eyes widened. It finally dawned on him.
I dialed security.
"But--"
"Don't worry. The money in all those offshore accounts will be given to your family."
"Please! Sir, give me another chance!" He begged.
"I did. You threw it away."
He continued begging, spilling out names of those involved— nothing I didn't already know.
"Get him out of my sight."
He kicked and cried as he was dragged away; causing a commotion, disrupting the harmonious atmosphere.
Greed destroys men.
*.*.*.*.*
Mansion Doom.
Sokovia.
"Come Viktor." The old lady held my hands and led me to the dining room; a whole fifty meter stretch from the second kitchen, which left the aged woman almost breathless even as she beamed.
I asked Jack to get me a house in Sokovia and move my family into it. I didn't realize he got me a refurbished castle instead.
But nevertheless, the walk did nothing to stifle the lady's joy.
Once she'd laid eyes on me, she refused to let go; as though I'd disappear if she even dared to blink. Yes, she's supposed to be my biological mother. I took the tests, they came out positive. They really are my–well, this body's family.
Valeria stood, smiling and gesturing for us to take our seats at the grand dinner table whose quarter section was occupied by food she'd made. I stared at her for a moment, the difference between how she looked now and her past appearance was as stark at the difference between sugar and sand. Turns out she was a natural blond, it was dirt that had turned her hair auburn.
She met my gaze and dodged it. There's an awkwardness between us. I really don't know how to connect to someone who's supposed to be my long lost sister. I never had one before.
The only reason I connected with the old lady so much was because she didn't seem to notice my awkwardness. Maybe she did, but just didn't care.
In this situation, I was a fish out of water. This wasn't a battle. It wasn't me manipulating others. This was me trying to be genuine in my feelings. I actually wanted to feel something.
We sat down. The old lady gave a prayer, before we began to eat. It was actually delicious, I wasn't even being polite when I voiced it out, yet Valeria couldn't have been happier. The old lady began to speak, she told me of stories.
She was like a kaleidoscope of expressions—laughing, frowning, smiling, excited, and amazed, as she recollected her lifetime, her bloodline, herself and of Valeria–who blushed and covered her face when I learned that she'd got stuck on a tree when she was twelve. I sat, a humble spectator, trying to be part of the warmth that filled the air.
These people cared little for my wealth or my reputation. To them I was Victor, the lost son. Not Justin the multi-billionaire.
Yet all I felt was sadness. A deep sadness, as this sight brought with it the desire to see the family I had left behind. I wondered if they too gather to share stories of me—the headstrong middle child, the wildest one of the bunch.
I turned to the old lady and beneath my smile, my sadness deepened. She didn't have much long to live. There was nothing I could do to prolong her life—she was too old and frail to survive any rejuvenation procedure. I wondered just how devastating her death would be to Valeria. How would she deal with that type of loss?
I would've chosen not to feel a thing, had I known it was going to be sadness.
Hellige shieza Regen! That's German for I make it Rain!!
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