The elevator hummed softly as it ascended toward the executive floor of Emperor Tower.
Michelle stood next to Luther, her hands clasping her tablet a little too tightly. She was still processing the press conference, replaying Luther's answers in her head.
"Sir," she ventured, her voice quiet. "You said that criminals won't be able to buy Vigor. You said we have background checks. But... isn't that a promise we can't keep?"
She looked at him, her brow furrowed.
"The black market exists. Straw buyers exist. If a criminal gets their hands on the serum and uses it to hurt someone... the media will crucify us. They'll play that clip of you guaranteeing safety over and over."
She paused, taking a breath.
"Shouldn't we have used softer language? Something like, 'Emperor Industries is committed to rigorous screening'? Making absolute statements feels... dangerous."
Luther chuckled. He didn't look worried. He looked amused.
"Dangerous for who, Michelle?"
"For the company. For our reputation."
"My sweetie," Luther said, turning to her with a smile that didn't quite reach his cold, red-tinged eyes. "You're thinking like a PR intern. You need to start thinking like an emperor."
He gestured vaguely with his hand.
"Yes, I said criminals won't buy it from us. And they won't. Our stores will have military-grade ID scanners. But what happens after the sale? That's not my problem."
"But—"
"Accidents happen," Luther interrupted smoothly. "Maybe a nice, law-abiding citizen buys a capsule for self-defense. Maybe he drops it on the subway. Maybe he gets mugged before he can take it, and the mugger steals it. Maybe he sells it to his cousin who just got out of Rikers."
He leaned in closer.
"I can't control the chaos of the world, Michelle. I just supply the tools to survive it."
Michelle fell silent. She was smart—top of her class at Oxford—but she was still learning the brutal calculus of power. She realized, with a sinking feeling, that Luther wasn't trying to prevent the black market. He was counting on it.
Luther watched her process this. He needed her sharp, but he needed her loyal.
He knew everything about her. He knew what she ate for breakfast. He knew she called her mother every Sunday. He knew her passwords, her search history, and her heart rate at this exact moment.
Megatron, his AI, was always watching.
Every camera in the building, every microphone in her phone, every keystroke on her laptop fed into Megatron's central processor.
Emperor Tower was a fortress. The elevators were segmented. Regular staff were confined to the lower levels. Executives like Michelle could reach the 50th floor.
But above that? The penthouse? The labs?
That was Luther's domain. No elevator went there. The only way up or down was a high-speed, vertical shaft with no car and no ladder. You had to fly.
If Michelle ever betrayed him, she wouldn't just be fired. She would simply cease to be relevant.
"But won't the public backlash be severe?" Michelle asked, trying to find a flaw in his logic. "If a 'Super Criminal' robs a bank using our product, people will be terrified."
"Exactly," Luther said. "Fear is the best marketing campaign in history."
The elevator doors opened onto the 50th floor. Luther stepped out, walking briskly down the corridor.
"Think about it," he continued. "If you turn on the news and see that a robber used Vigor to tear the door off a vault... what is your first thought?"
Michelle hesitated. "That the robber is dangerous."
"No," Luther corrected. "Your first thought is, 'I need to be strong enough to stop him.'"
He stopped and looked at her.
"America has 400 million guns in civilian hands. Why? Because people are afraid of other people with guns. It's an arms race. The Superman Drug is just the new caliber."
"If the bad guys are super... the good guys have to be super, too. And who sells the serum to the good guys?"
Michelle's eyes widened. "We do."
"Bingo."
Luther opened the door to his office.
"I don't want crime, Michelle. I'm a philanthropist," he said with zero sincerity. "But if crime happens... well, it just proves my point. The world is dangerous. You need insurance. You need Vigor."
Michelle stared at him. It was monstrous. It was brilliant.
"I... I understand, Boss."
"Good."
Luther walked over to his desk.
He wasn't worried about stability. The rich wanted stability, sure. They wanted their stocks to go up and their neighborhoods to be safe. That's why they would buy the permanent Compound One—to separate themselves from the chaos.
But chaos? Chaos was a ladder.
Luther wanted to see what would happen. He wanted to shake the Marvel Universe until its teeth rattled. What happens when a street gang can fight Captain America? What happens when S.H.I.E.L.D. isn't the only superpower in town?
"An unchanging world is boring," Luther thought. "And I'm done being bored."
He sat down and pulled up the sales figures.
The orders for Vigor were skyrocketing. The pre-orders for the Enhancement Loans were flooding the servers.
And the best part?
The chaos hadn't even started yet.
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