The plan worked. After ten years, the results were finally ours to enjoy, and they tasted sweet. We built this town on fair work and equality, proving that Houston didn't need slaves or discrimination to thrive. That was the lesson I made sure everyone learned.
Skin color, ethnicity, none of that matters here. If you show up searching for a job, we'll put you to work. We've been trail-blazers since the beginning. We know exactly what's happening beyond our borders, we aren't naive. Thanks to our scouts and our network, we've secured the blueprints and knowledge we need to stay ahead
We bought up every recipe we could find, and not just for food. We gathered 'recipes' for everything: fashion, medicine, and engineering. However, our library isn't a public square, it's a fortress of knowledge, closed to outsiders. Even when traders or couriers bring us goods, they never cross the threshold. Everything is handled at the front gate. No stranger sets foot inside Houston. We protect what we've built.
Word reached me that they had already begun producing electricity and crafting lightbulbs. It spurred me into action. I began sketching every blueprint I could imagine, leaving the execution to my people. I warned them then about my brother. He is like me, possessing the same abilities, but he belongs to his more feral side. He was never one for secrets; he flaunts his power openly, unlike the shadows I prefer to keep around Houston.
I told them I would be gone for two, maybe three years. I promised to return whenever I could, but this journey was a burden I had to carry, I had to keep my brother in check before his recklessness destroyed everything we were building. The townsfolk understood. They saw the weight of it in my eyes. I reminded them that Houston was my home too, that I belonged here just as much as they did, and that they had no reason to fear my absence.
The inner circle, the core people of Houston—already knew of the growing turmoil in Europe. They understood that the continent was a powderkeg, the Great War would likely ignite within the year. My departure was timely, but my mission was personal. I had to find my brother and keep him in check before the coming chaos gave him an excuse to kill unnecessarily. I couldn't let his bloodlust merge with the violence of the world.
James began laying out the next phase of his plan, a design so complex and daring that his inner circle looked at the blueprints with growing headaches. It was borderline madness, and as he watched their bewildered expressions, James couldn't help but burst into laughter. Of course, he didn't escape the meeting completely unscathed, they made sure to give him a hard time for his 'crazy' ideas before he left. The sound of their shared laughter echoed in the hall a brief, warm moment of joy before the long shadow of the coming war.
James issued his final directive: build a school, and then, a university. He refused to let the talent of his people go to waste. If someone had a spark of potential, Houston would give them a place to stoke it into a fire. Over the next few years, as the foundations were laid, Logan took up the mantle. He scoured the surrounding regions for teachers, men and women of brilliance who could educate children and adults alike. It was more than just a project, it was a vital extension of James's grand plan, ensuring that the town's future was built on knowledge, not just walls.
James didn't just slip away in the night. He went house to house, door to door, saying a personal goodbye to every family in Houston. To him, they weren't just subjects or workers, they were his kin.
The air was thick with sorrow, and many couldn't hold back their tears when he confirmed he would be gone for two or three years. But it was Lily who broke his heart the most. Over the last few years, they had formed a bond that surpassed mere friendship, she truly looked up to him as her uncle. Seeing the tears streaming down her face made his chest tighten with a sharp, physical ache. He knelt to her level, struggling to find the words to promise her that he would return.
He promised Lily he would write the moment he reached New York to draft for the army. It was a 'wet goodbye', tears blurring the faces of those he loved as he turned to go. In truth, the promise felt fragile; he had no way of knowing when, or if, the tides of war would allow him to return home. But for now, that promise was a lifeline. He held onto it as he walked away, leaving the safety of Houston for the cold uncertainty of the world outside.
...
Logan sat on the train to New York, carrying only his backpack and a bit of food from home. He was finally starting his journey to find his brother. He knew finding him wouldn't be hard; all he had to do was listen. Wherever Victor went, trouble followed.
He went to the draft office with a new identity that Hunter had forged for him. According to the papers, he was born in 1896, making him only sixteen years old. To look the part, he shaved his face and cut his hair short. He looked young for sixteen, but he had the right face for it. Since his body was lean and his muscles weren't too big, he was able to pass as a young teenager without any trouble.
Logan finally found Victor once he reached the front lines of the war. He had heard rumors about a soldier who couldn't be killed, even after being shot multiple times. Following those whispers, Logan saw Victor going on a rampage. He didn't even have to ask his superiors for a transfer to a different unit; fate had already brought them together. It felt like his life was following the script of a movie.
Victor was in the middle of a rampage when a German soldier raised a rifle to his face, ready to shoot. I saw it happen. I raised my own gun, but I didn't hesitate like the soldier did. Before he could pull his trigger, I shot him where he stood. Victor stopped suddenly, turning his head to see exactly who had just saved his life.
Victor saw me and let out a wide grin. He knew I would never leave him; we were brothers, and brothers always have each other's back. Instead of stopping, my presence only made him more wild. He pushed forward like a monster, and I stayed right behind him. We became a legend on the front lines, they called us "The Beast and his Devil Gunner.
"The Devil Gunner." I didn't hate the name, but it felt strange. I earned it because I was more than just a good shot, I was "crazy" good. I could take down two enemies with a single bullet. It wasn't because they were standing in a line, it was because I could make the bullet ricochet. I used the environment to bounce my shots, hitting targets that nobody else could see. That's why they started calling me a devil.
Victor didn't like it. He told me I should stop hiding and start using my real powers, but I didn't want to argue with him. I just stayed quiet. When he realized I wasn't going to listen or even care about what he said, he finally gave up and stopped talking about it.
Then came the Germans. It was madness. We were sent into one nightmare battlefield after another, places so bad that only a "brain-dead" person would ever go back to the front lines. But Victor and I did it every time. By then, I was a Sergeant and Victor was a Sergeant Major. I didn't like the ranks, they brought too much responsibility. But in the army, I just had to follow orders.
By the time the British and American forces joined the front lines against Germany, Victor and I weren't just soldiers, we were hand-picked for the worst missions. Honestly, I didn't care about the war. I was only there to look after Victor.
It had been seven years since I left Houston. I had promised to be home in two or three, but now it was 1918. I just sent my hundredth letter home. I missed my family so much it hurt. I thought about Lily constantly; she was growing up without me. In the photos they sent, she looked so happy and cute. It made me realize how much of her life I was missing.
They sent me a photo of the whole family, but I specifically asked for a picture of Lily. I am her godfather, after all. She is the daughter of Helen and my best friend, Douglas. Back in Houston, if I wasn't at the office working with Hunter, I was at their house. I was there the day she was born, and I spent every spare moment looking after her. Seeing her face in that photo reminded me exactly what I was fighting to get back to.
One night, Victor caught me holding the picture. He demanded to see it, his eyes filled with curiosity, but I refused. I pulled it away and tucked it back into my pocket. I didn't want him to see Lily or the family. I needed to keep that part of my life separate from the war, and separate from him. I wanted to keep the memory of home all to myself, safe from Victor's wild nature.
By 1919, the war was over, and I finally got the vacation I deserved. I was going home. I didn't invite Victor; he was more trouble than I could handle right now. I didn't even tell him where I was going. I simply told him I needed to get away and relax from all the death and fighting. I needed to see Houston alone.
I turned my back on the ruins of Europe and the shadow of my brother. I had spent seven years as a soldier, but now that journey was over. I had a different life waiting for me across the ocean, a town I built, a family I loved, and a future I had almost lost. It was time to go. Another journey was waiting for me at home.
....
By the time I returned home in 1919, the world was changing. In New York, boys named Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes were just growing up, and Howard Stark was coming into the world. I knew that in five or six years, Dr. Erskine would have to flee for his life after his work with the Red Skull went wrong. The world was getting dangerous, but for now, I was back in the one place that felt safe.
The future could wait. People like Howard Stark or Steve Rogers were just names for another time. Right now, the world wasn't filled with "super-powered" people going crazy, it was just a world trying to heal from a war. I didn't need to worry about the future yet. I just needed to focus on what I could do now. I was back in Houston, and for the first time in seven years, I could finally relax and be the man I wanted to be.
Germany would fall into chaos in another ten years, and people like Magneto would be born into that storm. There were so many names and dates to remember that it made my head spin. But I realized I didn't need to care too much about the distant future. History would play out the way it was meant to. For now, my only job was to be here, in Houston, and live the life I had missed for seven years.
I stepped back into Houston just a few hours ago. After being away for so long, the feeling of nostalgia hit me hard. I haven't felt this way in eighty years. It was a strange, new sensation. I walked the streets I had once drawn on paper, seeing how they had grown while I was gone. For the first time in a lifetime, I finally felt like I was where I belonged.
I walked toward Helen and Doug's house and caught a scent I recognized immediately it was Lily. I quietly went to the back of the house. Through the window, I heard her make a wish out loud: "I wish my Uncle James was here to celebrate my birthday with me".
I couldn't help but smile. It was a wide, happy grin, the kind of look I hadn't worn in years. Lily was born in 1906, just a year after I first met Helen and Doug. I had known her since her very first breath, and hearing her wish for me made every mile of the journey worth it.
Lily is thirteen now. She has grown so much. I missed the most important years of her life, I haven't seen her since she was only five years old. It hurts to know I missed so much time, but the past doesn't matter anymore. I am here right now. I made it back.
"Well, your wish has been granted," I said.
Every head turned at once. Shock was plastered across their faces. All seventeen of the original families were there, they would never miss Lily's birthday. We were such a close-knit group that outsiders rarely got near us, but I wasn't an outsider. I was the one who had been missing.
For a moment, the backyard was silent. They looked at me like they were seeing a ghost come back to life.
"UNCLE JAMES!"
The kids didn't just run, they bulldozed into me. It wasn't just Lily; there was a whole pack of them now. "We missed you, Uncle James!" they shouted.
I held them close, feeling the weight of the war finally lift. "I missed you all too," I whispered. I looked at the birthday girl and smiled. "Happy birthday, Honey Bun. I brought you something."
I handed her a small, hand-carved sculpture of herself. I had sculpted it during the quiet moments at the front, working from memory. Her eyes lit up with pure joy, she knew then that her Uncle James had never forgotten her for a single second.
"Well, look at you all," I laughed, my voice thick with emotion. "You've grown up so much. You'll be getting married and starting lives of your own in the near future! Hahaha... I am just so happy to be here right now."
As I looked around at every face in the yard, the Original 80 plus family, the growing kids, my best friends, the realization hit me. I had missed this place every single day. The "Devil Gunner" was gone, I was just James again, home at last.
I looked over at the shocked faces of my oldest friends. "Hey guys," I said with a tired but genuine smile. "How are you?"
"James!" The shout came from all of them at once.
"We missed you, buddy!" They surged forward, surrounding me. I was pulled into a chorus of hugs and slaps on the back. After seven years of cold steel and mud, the warmth of my own family was almost overwhelming. I was home.
As we sat together, I shared stories of the war and the things Victor and I had seen. When they asked why I hadn't brought him back with me, the air felt heavy.
"I didn't have the courage to bring him here," I admitted quietly.
The truth was, I didn't trust him. Victor's nature had become too feral, too chaotic. I was terrified that if he set foot in Houston, he would bring that same destruction to my family. I couldn't risk the peace we had built. I had to keep the "Beast" away from the home I loved.
My friends looked at me, and I could see the understanding in their eyes. They knew what Victor had become. If my brother ever lost control in this town, I was the only one with the power to stop him. If he did something extreme, I would be forced to take his life to decapitate him just to save the people I love.
They didn't push me after that. They understood. Houston was a sanctuary, and the only way to keep it that way was to make sure the "Beast" never found the front gate.
.....
I've been back for a few months now. My house was in perfect shape because my "brother and sister" here had looked after it while I was away. It wasn't a mansion just a small, comfortable home for a single man but for me, it was more than enough. After years of sleeping in trenches and tents, having a roof of my own felt like the ultimate luxury. It was exactly what I needed to become Logan again.
I've spent the last few months walking the streets, and the town looks even more solid than I imagined. The roads I discussed with Hunter before I left, he actually built them. He managed to finish the entire project in the eight years I was gone. It's impressive. Hunter is a genius in his own right, I gave him the spark, but he was the one who kept the fire burning and built this reality while I was stuck in the mud of Europe.
The town is thriving far beyond what I expected. There are businesses everywhere, and we are completely self-sufficient. We have our own supplies of salt, sugar, and pepper, every condiment you could need. But the real achievement is the "Fruit Houses." Those greenhouses we started in the mountains ten years ago are in full bloom now. While the rest of the world deals with rations and shortages, our people have fresh food and a booming economy. We've built more than a town, we've built a fortress of plenty.
Our reach has expanded into oil and gas, but that required a different strategy. We partnered with Shell to build a plant here a "win-win" deal. We provided the advanced machinery and the land, and they brought the technical staff. The oil is located right on the land our company bought to build the shipping piers and container docks. By bringing in an outside partner, we've secured our energy needs while keeping a foothold in the global market.
When we hit the oil, it just erupted, a massive gusher that we hadn't expected. We reached out to Shell, and they came to us with a contract that looked good on the surface, but I knew better. I've seen the future; I know how these companies eventually screw people over until the land is gone. So, I drafted my own agreement. It was so solid, so legally perfect, that they couldn't find a single loophole to exploit. They were stunned. Now they're "thinking about it," because they realized for the first time, they aren't the ones in control.
While Shell was busy "thinking" and trying to find a loophole, the representative from BP walked through the door. Without saying a single word, he picked up the pen and signed the agreement I drafted.
Shell was furious. They realized too late that we aren't unreasonable, we just know what we're worth. We insisted on renting the land instead of selling it. Shell hated that because they knew the property was huge. They realized that if they found more oil elsewhere on our land, they'd be paying us rent for decades. BP saw the value and took the deal, leaving Shell standing in the dust.
Shell had the nerve to slip a clause into the contract stating that after 50 years, they would own the land for free. It was an insult. I felt the "Devil Gunner" rising up in me, I nearly punched the representative right in his smug face.
Hunter caught my arm just in time. He pulled me into a side room to cool off. "Not like this, James," he whispered. We sat down, and together we drafted a new agreement, one that didn't just protect us for 50 years, but ensured the land would stay in our hands forever. We weren't going to let a corporation steal the home we built.
Shell lost because they were greedy. BP won because they understood the value of our name. They signed the agreement without even reading it because the Town of Houston has spent fifteen years building a reputation that no one can touch. Our goods from the fruit houses to the salt mines are the best quality anyone can buy. More importantly, we treat our workers like human beings. In a world full of lies, people know that a deal with us is a deal they can trust.
BP isn't afraid to do business with us because they know who we are. Over the last eight years, we haven't stayed small, we've grown larger and more powerful. I directed our expansion toward the sea, building the massive piers and docks necessary for global shipping. We stopped being a simple town and became a gateway to the world. BP saw the infrastructure we built and realized that we were the most prepared, most professional partners they could find in Texas.
Everyone in Houston knows the truth: the town belongs to the 17 Families. They are the heart and the shield of this place. We created a private holding company specifically for the families, divided into 17 controlling shares. Every business we run from the oil to the greenhouses falls under this umbrella. It isn't a public company, and it never will be. That was the pact we made. Doug heads the operation, ensuring that the wealth and the power stay exactly where they belong, with the people who built this dream from the dirt.
In 1903, we laid the cornerstone of our true power: HBBank. With James at the center of its design, the bank was never meant to be just a local vault, it was built to be a fortress for our wealth. By 1920, we had already branched out far beyond the town limits.
James saw what others couldn't, that a second, greater war was looming on the horizon. He knew that when that day came, the government would be desperate for resources and capital. That is where HBBank comes in. We aren't just bankers, we are the silent creditors of the future. When the world falls into chaos again, the path to recovery will run straight through the doors of Houston.
We are no longer just a town in Texas. We are the key players for the next hundred years.
Fifteen years ago, when I first spoke of this, they thought I was crazy. They saw a man chasing ghosts. But today, they don't doubt anymore. They have seen the gushers, the bank vaults, and the roads that lead to the sea. Now, they don't just follow me, they believe in the data. Every analysis I provide, every prediction I make, becomes their gospel. We aren't just building a city, we are building the controlling power of the world.
Our operatives, the men who walk in the shadows returned with a mountain of intelligence. They kept their findings locked tight within the Bunker, a repository of secrets for our future use. Once again, James's words proved to be prophetic.
By this point, the 17 Families had grown far beyond their humble beginnings. We were no longer just a group of pioneers; we had transformed into a self-sustaining powerhouse. With our own bank, our own energy, and our own intelligence network, we stood alone undefeatable and ready for the century ahead.
The public sees the 'Original 17' and assumes they are the masters of Houston. It's a perfect smokescreen. No one realizes there is an 18th family, the Howlett family standing at the very center of our success.
James is the invisible hand. While the 17 heads manage the day-to-day empire, the 18th share carries the true weight. This hidden structure ensures that while the town grows into a global powerhouse, the original vision remains untouched. We are a council of 17, but we are led by the one who remembers where we came from.
.....
I sat perfectly still in my chair, the silence of my small house suddenly feeling heavy. I remembered reading about Leonardo da Vinci not as a historical figure, but as a man who was still very much alive.
The realization hit me like a physical blow. He has his own organization, a legacy that has spanned centuries, and I sat there paralyzed, unsure of my next move. How does my 'Grand Plan' for Houston fit into a world where a man like Da Vinci is still pulling the strings from the shadows? For the first time in years, the Architect didn't have an answer.
For anyone else, the news that an ancient, immortal genius was operating in the shadows would be devastating. But I sat there, calm, because I knew the truth. Leonardo himself isn't the enemy, he is a man of science and order.
The real danger is the Brotherhood he left behind. Like a parasite, a 'snake' has entered his organization, one where cutting off a head only causes others to pop out. I realized then that my mission wasn't just to protect Houston from corporations or world wars; I have to protect it from the rot growing inside the world's oldest secret society.
Hydra is a plague that threatens us all. Even a genius like Leonardo fell victim to them. He was so consumed by the 'Science of Humanity', by the beauty of what we could become, that he forgot to watch the shadows. He was an architect of light, but he didn't realize that light always creates a place for snakes to hide.
I sat there and realized that I cannot afford to be just a builder. I have to be the executioner, too. Da Vinci was betrayed because he refused to believe men could be so small and so cruel. I don't have that luxury. I've seen what those snakes do to the world, and I will burn every one of them before they touch a single brick of Houston.
I already had a plan: I would follow Steve into the fire. My goal wasn't just to win a war, but to thin out the Hydra parasite before it could fully take root. I understood the game the American government was playing, they were hungry for the kind of superpower status that controls the world, and they weren't picky about the methods.
While Steve would be the shield the world looked to, I would be the shadow. I would hunt the snakes while the government looked the other way in their pursuit of power. They wanted a superpower, I wanted a world where the 'Original 17' could sleep safely at night.
......
My vision for Houston was never about fame or the hollow 'glory' of modern internet giants. I don't want the world's eyes on us, attention only brings headaches and parasites.
Instead, I built a town of producers. We are the silent engine. We focus on sustainability, growing our own food, refining our own power, and securing our own wealth. We aren't a 'company' for the world to buy into, we are a fortress that provides what the world cannot live without. By the time they realize how much power we actually hold, it will be too late for them to stop us. We are the foundation, and the foundation doesn't need to be seen to hold up the world.
I understood something the politicians of 1920 couldn't even imagine, in the future, producing anything in America would become a nightmare of expense and difficulty. The land would be choked by red tape, and the cost of labor would skyrocket.
That's why I pushed for sustainability now. I didn't want us to be a 'middleman' for the world; I wanted us to be the source. By owning the means of production, the water, the energy, and the food, we bypassed the trap of the coming century. While the rest of the country eventually struggles to even manufacture a nail, Houston will remain a powerhouse of self-reliance.
I made it clear to everyone in my inner circle: we move as one, but we stay in the dark. The 17 Families are the face the world sees, the respectable businessmen and landowners. But behind them stands a silent army of 70 more families, a hidden support system that ensures we never fail.
While the public focuses on the 'heads' of our companies, the true strength of Houston lies in the families behind them. They are the ones who keep the production lines running, the security tight, and the secrets buried. We aren't just a business, we are a hidden nation. If you try to cut us, you'll find we have deep roots that you can't even see.
I knew that to truly protect our future, we had to control the narrative. I tasked Hunter with forming a political organization, a party that would operate entirely behind the scenes. We weren't interested in the spotlight or the vanity of office.
Our goal was to pull the strings from the shadows, ensuring that the laws and the leaders of the future would never become a threat to our sovereignty. While the public debated the issues of the day, Hunter's people would be ensuring that the path for the 18th seat remained clear. We didn't just want to live in the world; we wanted to decide the rules of the game.
"Future lobbying," James had remarked with a cold, knowing smile, "is going to be fun."
It was the "fun" of a predator who already knew where the prey was going to run. Because James had lived through the future, he didn't have to guess which senator would be a drunk, which congressman would take a bribe, or which rising star would eventually hold the keys to the White House.
I don't need to make enemies of the world if I can make them all my friends. By weaving a 'Cobweb' of secret agents and intelligence, I ensure that Houston sits at the center of every global conversation.
With this flow of information, I can see the ripples before the wave even hits. I will know the future before it happens and predict the moves of my rivals before they even make them. While the world sees a friendly face and a helping hand, they don't realize that I've already mapped out their next ten years. In our world, information isn't just power, it's the ultimate insurance policy for our legacy.