Building a Conglomerate in Another World

The walls of Fort Grey were thick and unyielding, built decades ago to house Amerathia’s most dangerous criminals. Now, they held the men who had nearly torn the nation apart.

President Matthew Hesh walked through the dimly lit corridors, his footsteps echoing as he approached the high-security block. His shoulder ached from the wound he had sustained during the final battle, but he ignored it.

This visit wasn’t about his pain. It was about understanding.

Whitaker and Collins followed close behind, their expressions unreadable. Armed guards flanked them, their rifles ready, their eyes watchful.

"Are you sure about this, Matt?" Collins muttered.

Hesh didn’t answer immediately. He kept walking. The iron door loomed ahead.

"Yes," he said finally. "I need to hear it from them."

A guard unlocked the heavy door. The bolts groaned as it swung open.

Inside the holding area, three men sat in silence—Gideon Langston, Jonathan Hawthorne, and Cornelius Voss. The architects of The Order.

Their hands were cuffed, their clothes replaced with prison uniforms, but their eyes still burned with defiance.

Hesh stepped inside, the door locking behind him.

Silence.

Then Langston leaned back against his chair, smirking. "Mr. President," he said mockingly. "To what do we owe the honor?"

Hesh didn’t sit. He crossed his arms, his gaze cold. "I want to know why."

Langston raised an eyebrow. "Why what?"

Hesh’s voice was calm, controlled. "Why you did this. The assassinations, the coup, the destruction of Washington. What was your endgame?"

Hawthorne exhaled slowly, shaking his head. "You already know the answer."

"I want to hear it from you," Hesh shot back.

Langston smirked again but said nothing. It was Voss who finally spoke.

"You think we did this just to seize power?" Voss’s voice was dry, bitter. "You still don’t get it, do you?"

Hesh stared at him, unblinking. "Then explain it to me."

Voss leaned forward, his chains clinking against the table. "Amerathia was never meant to be just another nation. It was meant to rule. It was meant to dominate."

Hesh frowned. "Through force?"

Langston chuckled. "What do you think built this country? Good intentions? Diplomacy?" He shook his head. "No. It was war. Expansion. Strength."

Hesh narrowed his eyes. "So you wanted to turn Amerathia into an empire?"

Langston’s smile faded. "We wanted to secure its future."

Hawthorne finally spoke, his voice low. "You think the world respects us? No. They fear us because of what we could be. But fear isn’t enough. We had to act."

Hesh felt his stomach tighten. "Act how?"

Langston exhaled, his smirk returning. "Amerathia should have expanded beyond its borders decades ago. We have the military, the industry, the wealth. Instead, we let weaker nations rise, let foreign influences seep into our economy, let politicians like you waste time with bureaucracy."

Hesh clenched his jaw. "So your solution was to burn the country down and take over?"

Langston’s gaze darkened. "You would have never agreed to real change."

Hesh scoffed. "Real change? You mean war? Conquest?"

Voss chuckled. "Call it what you like, Mr. President. But power—true power—requires sacrifice."

Hesh stared at them. He had fought enemies before. But this was something different.

This wasn’t just a political coup. It was ideology.

Hawthorne leaned forward. "You think peace is sustainable? That Amerathia will remain strong by playing by the rules? You’ve already seen what happens when you hesitate. Look outside, Hesh. Washington is in ruins. We exposed how fragile your so-called ’democracy’ is."

Hesh’s hands curled into fists. "And yet, I’m still standing."

Langston’s smirk faded. "For now."

Silence settled over the room.

Hesh exhaled, taking a step closer. "You failed. The people rejected you. Your men turned against you. Your empire was built on lies, and it collapsed."

Langston didn’t respond.

Hesh turned to Voss. "What would you have done if you won?"

Voss shrugged. "Rebuilt Amerathia the right way. Expanded our reach. Controlled trade. Strengthened the military. We wouldn’t have let weak nations dictate terms to us."

Hesh studied them. They truly believed it.

"You don’t get it," Hesh said quietly. "Power without principles is just tyranny."

Langston chuckled. "And what do you call your rule, Mr. President? Martial law? The National Guard patrolling the streets? You had to become us just to survive."

Hesh’s jaw tightened. "Martial law ends when order is restored. But what you wanted? It would never end. You wanted to control everything."

Langston smirked. "That’s how you win."

Hesh shook his head. "No. That’s how you destroy everything."

He stepped back, exhaling slowly. He had heard enough.

He turned toward the door.

Langston called after him. "You think this is over, don’t you?"

Hesh paused.

Langston grinned. "We may be in chains, but our ideas aren’t."

Hesh turned slightly. "Then I’ll make sure Amerathia never follows them again."

The door opened, and he stepped out.

Collins and Whitaker were waiting.

"Well?" Collins asked.

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Hesh exhaled. "They wanted to turn Amerathia into an empire through force."

Whitaker frowned. "Typical."

Collins shook his head. "Do you think there are more of them out there?"

Hesh glanced back at the prison. "Ideologies don’t die in cells."

He clenched his jaw. "But we make sure they never rise again."

They walked down the corridor, leaving The Order’s leaders behind.

Hesh sat in the White House, staring at the city through his window. The scars were still fresh, but Amerathia had survived.

Collins entered. "The trials begin tomorrow."

Hesh nodded. "Good."

Whitaker followed. "We’ve arrested hundreds of their operatives. But Langston’s right. Ideas don’t die easily."

Hesh took a deep breath. "Then we do something they never could."

Collins frowned. "Which is?"

Hesh looked at them. "We rebuild Amerathia—not through war, but through unity."

Whitaker raised an eyebrow. "And if another group like them rises?"

Hesh’s gaze was firm. "Then we’ll be ready."

He turned back to the window, the city stretching before him.

The battle was over.

But the fight for Amerathia’s future had just begun. And he hopes that it would be the last of the Order.