Season 2 chapter 28
The Patriot's Check
The heavy diesel engines of the Kavilson Sovereign hummed smoothly as the luxury mega-yacht cut through the freezing waters of the Northern Sector, charting a direct course back to the Republic of DI.
Inside the main cabin, the atmosphere was completely different from the manic energy they had arrived with. The sheer, apocalyptic reality of the Fissluation island had sobered all of them.
Kniya was sitting in a plush leather armchair, staring out the reinforced glass window at the dark ocean. He was drinking a cup of hot black coffee.
Malesh sat across from him, closing his brass-clasped ledger with a satisfying snap.
"Kniya," Malesh said, his voice dropping its usual combative tone. "I must formally state that your decision in the cavern was highly unexpected. You possessed the most valuable energy asset on the planet, and you walked away. It was, without a doubt, the most logical decision you have ever made."
"Don't sound so surprised," Kniya grunted, taking a sip of his coffee. "I know when to fold a hand. If we extracted that rock, we would be exposed to the world. We'd be painting a target on our own backs for every superpower on the globe."
"Instead, we are the heroes of the Republic," Filoska chimed in from the mahogany dining table. She had already drafted a dozen logistical manifests for the oil extraction. "Think about the narrative we are about to spin. We are sending thousands of engineers and roughnecks to the petroleum island. We are single-handedly employing thousands of DI'an workers."
"Exactly," Kniya smirked, the arrogant, visionary spark returning to his eyes. "We aren't just an oil company. We are building the Republic's supremacy. The government can't touch us because the public will love us for creating jobs. The politicians get to take the credit, the legacy barons get crushed, and we get a literal free blank check from the federal treasury in the form of employment subsidies. We are being paid by the government to build our own monopoly."
Malesh pushed his glasses up his nose. "A flawless sociological manipulation. The DI government will be so blinded by the economic boom, they will never question what else is hidden in the Northern Sector."
"Seal the radioactive rock in concrete," Kniya ordered softly. "And let's go get rich."
The 500-Year Extortion
Before the Kavilson Sovereign even reached the shores of the DI Republic, the two billionaires had to settle the logistics of the newly discovered petroleum island.
They were sitting in the yacht's luxury dining room. Filoska was frantically drafting legal documents while Kniya and Malesh argued over a map of the island.
"I am not letting your uneducated, hammer-swinging SuliBulli apes touch my oil rigs," Malesh stated, aggressively tapping his gold pen against the table. "The extraction of deep-mantle crude requires precision. Malesh Energy Limited will establish the rigs, employ the engineers, and pull the raw crude out of the rock. Kavilson Steel is not an energy company. You stay in your lane."
"Oh, fuck off, you sludge-drinking parasite," Kniya laughed, leaning back with a glass of iced cider. "You think I give a shit about how the oil comes out of the ground? You can hire the nerds. You can run the pumps. But we already agreed on a fifty-fifty split of the volume to fuel my Arvonian factories."
"I agreed to supply you," Malesh corrected, his eyes narrowing. "But I am the one absorbing the operational cost of the deep-sea extraction. Therefore, I will sell you your fifty percent of the crude at standard market price."
Kniya stopped drinking. He slowly lowered his glass, a dangerous, predatory smirk spreading across his face.
"Standard market price?" Kniya asked. "Bro, are you fucking high? We are partners. I literally supplied the SuliBulli drills to find this puddle of dinosaur shit for you."
"Partnership does not equal charity," Malesh deadpanned.
"Fine," Kniya shrugged casually. "Then I am going to increase the price of the structural steel you need to build those 350 Arvonian refineries by exactly eight hundred percent. Let's see how much your fucking profit margins bleed when a single steel beam costs you ten million credits."
Malesh froze. His brain rapidly calculated the catastrophic financial loss of an 800% steel markup.
"You are a sociopath," Malesh whispered.
"I'm a businessman," Kniya grinned, pointing his pen at Filoska. "Filoska! Draft a new contract. Malesh Energy Limited will supply Kavilson Steel with exactly half of the island's total oil output at a permanent, non-negotiable fifty percent discount from whatever the current market price is."
Filoska sighed, her pen flying across the parchment. "For how long?"
"Five hundred years," Kniya smirked.
"Five hundred?!" Malesh snapped, his robotic composure breaking. "That is half a millennium! We will be biologically dead!"
"I don't give a fuck," Kniya laughed loudly. "My great-great-great-grandkids are going to be buying cheap gas from your great-great-great-grandkids. Sign the paper, oil boy, or I am cutting off your steel supply tomorrow."
Malesh glared at him with pure, unfiltered hatred. He grabbed the paper, violently scribbled his signature, and threw the pen at Kniya's head. Kniya just dodged it, laughing maniacally. The ultimate corporate extortion was complete.
The Four-Year Leap (The Year 1434)
Time is the ultimate variable, but for Kniya Anderson and Malesh Bulwadi, it was just another asset to be heavily leveraged.
Four years passed.
It was now the year 1434. They were twenty-nine years old, and the Republic of DI had completely reshaped itself around their gravity.
The Northern Petroleum Island was now a marvel of modern diesel engineering. Massive, heavily armored sea-platforms pumped tens of millions of barrels of raw crude out of the subterranean ocean every single month. Malesh Energy Limited controlled it all. The DI government was so fat, happy, and pacified by the massive employment boom that they didn't ask a single question about the sealed, concrete-filled "geological anomaly" on the second island.
But while Malesh was busy drowning the world in cheap oil, Kniya Anderson had been violently expanding.
He didn't just want to sell raw steel blocks anymore. With an unlimited supply of half-priced diesel flowing directly from Malesh's rigs, Kniya had evolved Kavilson Steel into a terrifying, multi-tiered conglomerate.
The Warlord of Infrastructure
Location: The Executive Office, Antrious Hub.
Kniya was sitting behind his massive desk, currently tossing a rubber ball against the ceiling. The Antrious Hub was no longer just a warehouse district; it was an industrialized mega-city.
The heavy oak doors swung open, and Malesh walked in. He was wearing his usual immaculate, dark tailored suit, carrying a leather ledger.
"You know, Kniya," Malesh stated, not even saying hello as he walked over to the window. "Your new manufacturing plants are emitting an inefficient amount of sulfur into the atmosphere. The smog over the capital is currently thick enough to chew. It is mathematically disgusting."
"It's called the smell of money, you sterile fucking accountant," Kniya grinned, catching the rubber ball. "If you don't like the smog, stop selling me millions of gallons of diesel at half price. Oh wait, you can't! You signed a 500-year contract!"
Malesh's eye visibly twitched at the reminder of the contract. "I despise you on a molecular level."
"Love you too, bro," Kniya laughed, standing up and walking over to the massive glass window. He pointed down at the sprawling industrial yards below. "Look at that. You think I'm just making girders anymore? Welcome to Phase Two."
Malesh looked down. The yards were packed with massive, terrifying new machines.
"I bought out the automotive and military sectors," Kniya announced proudly. "Kavilson Steel is now mass-producing heavy diesel-powered tanks and armored transport trucks for the DI military. They are completely addicted to my supply. And for the rich aristocratic pricks? I'm manufacturing luxury, fuel-powered sedans. Leather seats, brass trim, V8 engines. I am putting the horse-and-carriage industry in the fucking grave."
Malesh adjusted his glasses, analyzing the tanks rolling off the assembly line.
"Your luxury sedans look like aerodynamic bricks," Malesh critiqued deadpan. "They possess the turning radius of a dead whale. Who the fuck is buying those?"
"Everyone who wants to look better than you," Kniya shot back. "And that's not even the best part. Look at the eastern rail yard."
Malesh shifted his gaze. Lined up on specialized heavy-freight trains were massive, terrifyingly large artillery cannons and mountains of brass munitions.
"Heavy artillery," Kniya smirked. "I remembered our childhood making 'Stone Guns.' Now, I am literally forging naval cannons and artillery shells. Kavilson Steel is the official defense contractor for the entire Republic. If the government wants to shoot someone, they have to pay me for the bullet."
"So you have monopolized automotives, military weaponry, and structural steel," Malesh summarized. "A violent, highly destructive portfolio. Very on-brand for your psychological profile."
"I also build things!" Kniya argued, offended. "Look at the Seistain skyline! I expanded into Mega-Infrastructure. Kavilson Construction is currently building massive steel- suspension bridges, paving hundreds of miles of concrete roads, and erecting skyscrapers that actually touch the clouds. I am literally physically rebuilding the Republic."
"Yes, using my diesel to power your cranes," Malesh noted smugly.
"Which I buy for fifty percent off," Kniya instantly fired back, completely wiping the smug look off Malesh's face.
Kniya walked back to his desk, grabbing a bottle of expensive imported water.
"I am officially a conglomerate, bro," Kniya grinned. "I build the roads, I build the cars that drive on the roads, and I build the tanks that can blow up the roads if the government ever tries to cross me. I am untouchable."
"You are a chaotic logistical nightmare," Malesh sighed, opening his ledger. "But your massive expansion is generating an astronomical amount of capital. Which brings me to the reason I am standing in your smog-filled office."
Malesh placed a single, highly classified document on Kniya's desk.
"The global market is stabilized. The government is deep in our pockets," Malesh said, his voice dropping into a serious, calculating register. "It is time to look beyond the Republic of DI and Arvonia. It is time for a hostile takeover of a new continent."