The Puppet and The Pedigree
Within seventy-two hours, Cain the Broker had established Aethyr Dynamics. It was a perfectly clean shell corporation, registered in three different countries, specializing in "global infrastructure resource management." Aethyr was already positioned to make its first major acquisition, thanks to the illegal but flawless transfers Cain performed under my command.
My new office was a luxury apartment overlooking Central Park, rented discreetly through a dozen layers of shell companies. I sat on a polished leather chair, watching the city below, while Cain and my two muscle assets, A-01 and A-02, stood ready.
"Cain," I said, my voice smooth but sharp. "A company is only as good as its face. I will be the core—the hidden mind. I need a frontman. A CEO. Someone disposable, loud, and confident enough to attract headlines, but weak enough to be entirely loyal to me."
Cain, now an efficient machine dedicated to my ambition, accessed his data banks instantly. "Master, I have identified a candidate: Julian Vane. He is a disgraced financier, known for aggressive takeovers, excellent public speaking, and a desperate need for capital to restore his reputation. He's ambitious and arrogant."
"Perfect. Arrogance makes control easy." I tapped my temple. "Use the standard protocol. No dust. Just dominion. Julian Vane will be the world's CEO of Aethyr Dynamics. He will be my voice, my shield, and the perfect scapegoat when things go sideways."
The Political Blueprint
My mind worked constantly, fueled by the absorbed energy. My past was a lifetime of observing power: my late father had been a powerful Senator, giving me a front-row seat to the mechanisms of political corruption, media spin, and clandestine deals. I knew how to leverage debt, whisper a rumor, and turn public opinion.
The Marvel universe respects power, but it fears shadows, I mused. If I'm the shadow behind Vane, all scrutiny falls on him.
I finalized the plan: Vane would handle the legitimate side—the press, the acquisitions, the meetings with Stark's rivals. Meanwhile, my loyal enforcers (A-01, A-02, and others to come) would continue to build my underworld influence—securing resources, silencing threats, and gathering information.
The Actress and The Urge
Later that evening, after Vane had been successfully dominated and installed in his new persona, I allowed myself a necessary deviation. My power, the Bio-energy absorption core, didn't just enhance my physical vitality; it amplified my desires, particularly the primal need for sexual and mental dominance. I felt a constant, potent hum of energy that demanded release and satisfaction.
My target was not a random victim. She was Jennifer Anistonone of Hollywood's most talked-about actresses. Beautiful, fiercely independent, and currently in New York promoting a new action film. She represented a high-value asset, a perfect blend of influence and desirability.
I traced her through Cain's networks, finding her penthouse suite. I bypassed the security easily, my enhanced physical agility (part of the peak human condition wish) allowing me to scale the building with quiet grace, entering through her balcony door.
She was stunning in person, reading a script while curled up on a vast sofa. She looked up, startled, as I stepped onto the plush carpet.
"Who are you? How did you—"
Her words died in her throat as I focused my energy. I didn't want to use the dominion protocol on her mind yet; not immediately. I wanted the full experience of breaking that renowned will. I wanted the struggle, the realization of her absolute submission.
I reached out, but instead of the violet energy, I focused on a simple, raw psychic suggestion—a dizzying, overwhelming wave of desire and command.
"Don't scream, Jennifer ," I whispered, my amethyst eyes locking onto hers. "Your struggle is irrelevant. You are already mine."
Her eyes went wide with defiance, but her body was already betraying her. She felt the overwhelming psychic weight, the absolute certainty of my victory, and the physical reaction was instantaneous and intoxicating to witness.
I stepped closer. This was not just about the power; it was about the ownership.
The following morning, Julian Vane, with his polished silver tongue and sudden, inexplicable wealth, held his first press conference as the CEO of Aethyr Dynamics. He spoke of innovation, expansion, and "bringing a new, ethical leadership to global technology." The media ate it up. They had a new face, a new villain/hero, to obsess over.
Orion watched the news coverage on a silent screen, sitting next to Lara Thorne.
Lara was different now. Her former independence was replaced by a serene, absolute devotion. She was utterly loyal, retaining her health, her talent, and her staggering social influence.
",Jennifer " I commanded, adjusting her sleeve. "Your career will continue. You will use your influence to open doors, to secure invitations, and to subtly promote the image of Mr. Vane. You will be my eyes and ears among the elite."
"Yes, Master," she replied, her voice soft and entirely devoid of resistance.
I smiled, a genuine, satisfied smile. I had the ghost—Orion, the true power. I had the veil—Vane, the public distraction. And now I had my first significant asset in the social and cultural sphere.
The pieces were assembling perfectly. Tony Stark might be fighting aliens and terrorists, but he wouldn't see the silent empire growing beneath his feet until it was too late.
"Cain," I called into my secure comms. "Start buying up the debt on every mid-level politician in this city. Every vote is a vulnerability. And have Mr. Vane schedule a charity gala. We need to meet the Avengers' financiers."