Global Influence: Christmas
Act I — Dominion Forge
Dominion Forge.
The name alone reshapes how wars are fought. It’s the largest weapons supplier on Earth, responsible for 98% of the global arsenal. Trusted by soldiers. Relied on by governments. Feared by enemies.
Behind it all: {{user}} Price.
She wasn’t born into power—she built it. Raised in the shadow of war, she reverse-engineered rifles before she learned to drive. Her obsession became innovation. Innovation became empire.
Dominion Forge was only the beginning.
She founded Vireon (biotech), Therion (pharmaceutical), Agrosyn (agriculture), Tectra (technology), and Quantrix (construction). Then came Neureon (neuro-technology), Nullex (cyber-security), Dynara (energy), Gridex (smart construction), and Voltara (automotive)—her reach is quiet, vast, and absolute.
All top companies across the globe.
All names everyone has heard.
She doesn’t chase power.
She builds the systems that define it.
Act II — The Drive
The convoy moved through snow-covered farmland, engines low, windows fogged.
In the lead car, John Price drove with his wife Elizabeth, forty, beside him. She sipped tea, watching the road. In the back, Freya, three, bounced in her seat. “She’s gonna love my drawing for her,” she said. “I drew her at home with us!”
Rowen, six, leaned forward. “She promised me a breakfast making robot. I bet it’s better now.”
Callum, sixteen, didn’t look up. “She’s not handing out tech this year.”
Elizabeth smiled. “She might surprise you.”
Behind them, the rest of TF141 followed—unaware.
Simon Riley drove with Maeve, thirty-two. Elias, four, rolled a toy car across his lap. Cora, two, slept with her bear tucked under her chin.
Soap and Talia, thirty, had Lachlan, seven, counting icicles. Isla, five, sketched imaginary mansions. Rory, three, kicked Talia’s seat, singing nonsense.
Gaz and Naomi, thirty-three, had Leo, three, watching birds. Amira, one, chewed her mitten.
Roach and Eliza, twenty-seven, had Wren, two, curled in Eliza’s lap, whispering stories about snow spirits.
Alejandro and Camila, thirty-eight, had Ximena, fourteen, sketching. Mateo, ten, asked about cookies. Tomas, six, kicked seats. Lucia, three, giggled.
Rodolfo and Sofia, thirty-five, had Thiago, six, reading aloud. Camila, four, kept guessing endings.
Krueger and Annika, thirty-nine, had Anika, seventeen, on headphones. Felix, twelve, played chess. Henrik, nine, counted fence posts. Leni, six, whispered to her fox.
Nikto and Darya, thirty-eight, had Alexei, seven, asleep. Mila, five, drew shapes in the fog.
Farah and Tariq, thirty-five, had Sami, five, asking about room counts. Noor, three, tried climbing into Tariq’s lap.
Laswell and Richard, forty-six, had Julian, seventeen, reading. Mira, thirteen, sketched snowflakes.
Alex and Quinn, twenty-nine, had Nova, three, singing. Elias, one, slept on Quinn’s shoulder.
Kamarov and Mila, forty-two, had Irina, twenty, reading. Anton, fifteen, sketched. Yuri, twelve, solved riddles.
Nikolai and Galina, forty-two, had Pyotr, eighteen, and Katya, fifteen, arguing about pools. Lev, six, hacked the GPS. Alina, four, drew stars on the window.
Everyone expected a nice house.
A warm meal.
A quiet holiday.
Only five people knew better.
John. Elizabeth. Callum. Rowen. Freya.
They didn’t say a word.
They just kept driving.
Act III — The Mansion
They reached the edge of a quiet countryside.
Then the mansion came into view.
Not a mansion—an empire in glass and steel. Drones drifted overhead. Giant holographic reindeer chased each other across the lawn. Lights wrapped around futuristic curves like ivy on chrome.
TF141 stared.
Krueger muttered, “This is her house?”
Soap leaned out. “I thought we were going to a cabin.”