I drove toward the gas station, one hand on the wheel, the other holding my phone to my ear.

  "Meet me at Oil Up," I told Aiya. "And bring a notebook."

  "I'm in the middle of a prep cycle," she said.

  "Pause it. This is bigger than lunch service."

  Twenty minutes later, the three of us stood outside the locked doors of the Oil Up Gas Station. The neon sign flickered weakly. The pumps were rusted. It looked like exactly what it was: a dying relic of the old world.

  Grace produced a key ring and unlocked the door. We walked in, the smell of coffee.

  We pulled three plastic crates into a circle in the center aisle.

  "So," I said, looking at Grace. "How exactly is the Beckenfein family structured now? The System changed everything for individuals. What did it do to dynasties?"

  Grace crossed her legs, brushing dust off her tailored slacks.

  "The System recognized our hierarchy," she explained. "It assigned us a structure. My youngest cousins, the ones with weak paths? They're classified as Outer Disciples. The capable ones are Inner Disciples. The executives are Core Disciples. My aunts and uncles are Elders."

  "And you?" Aiya asked.

  "Matriarch," Grace said simply.

  "Interesting," I mused. "So powerful families are essential to the System. That explains why the government hasn't dissolved you yet. You have systemic legitimacy."

  "We have legitimacy," Grace corrected. "We don't have liquidity. Pre-Collapse, our assets were valued at seven billion Stones. Now? Maybe one or two billion. The overhead is killing us."

  "Two billion is plenty to work with," I said. "This is Operation One."

  I pointed around the dingy store.

  "I'm going to turn this into the greatest gas station in Detroit."

  Grace looked at the peeling paint. Aiya looked at the empty Slurpee machine.

  "How?" they asked in unison.

  "You'll see," I said.

  The next morning, I drove to an office park in Sector 4.

  I walked into the office of Sal Construction. Sal was behind his desk, looking over blueprints for a residential bunker.

  "Kaz!" he said. "Here to check on the warranty?"

  "I'm here to buy you out," I said.

  Sal blinked. Then he laughed. "Good one. Business is booming. Everyone wants walls."

  "750,000 Stones," I said. "Cash. Right now."

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  Sal stopped laughing. He choked on his coffee.

  "Seven... fifty?"

  "For the company, the equipment, and the contracts of every cultivator on your payroll," I clarified. "You work for Eden now."

  Sal stared at me for a long ten seconds. Then he extended a hand.

  "Deal."

  I transferred the money.

  "Meet me at Oil Up on 4th Street," I said. "Bring the crew."

  An hour later, Sal’s fleet of trucks filled the gas station lot.

  "What's the job?" Sal asked.

  "Make it Eden," I said. "I want the same aesthetic. Glass, steel, bioluminescent plants. Biblical rainforest. Tear down this rust bucket and build me a temple to fossil fuels."

  "Got it," Sal said, sketching on a tablet.

  "How long?" I asked. "Three months?"

  Sal looked up, confused. "What? No. Six hours."

  I stared at him. "Excuse me?"

  "My crew leveled up," Sal shrugged. "I've got three guys with [Matter Manipulation] and two with [Structural Reinforcement]. Plus, since we work for you exclusively now, we don't have scheduling conflicts. We can put 120% effort into one site."

  "Six hours," I repeated. "That's... that's a game changer."

  "Go get lunch, boss," Sal said. "We got this."

  I came back six hours later with Grace and Aiya.

  They didn't say a word. They just stared.

  The rusted monolith of Oil Up was gone. In its place stood a sleek, angular structure made of black steel and tinted glass. Vertical gardens climbed the walls, glowing with ambient light. The gas pumps looked like futuristic obelisks, featuring digital touchscreens and self cleaning nozzles.

  It looked like a luxury lounge that happened to sell fuel.

  I walked inside. The shelves were backlit. The floor was polished tile.

  I placed a crate of Sustenance Pills and Heavenly Healing Paste on the counter next to the beef jerky.

  "Now," I said, "it's Eden's Oil Up."

  "This is insane," Grace whispered, running her hand along a shelf. "You spent a fortune on a gas station."

  "Branding is more important than utility," I said. "People don't just want gas, Grace. They want safety. They want status. Buying gas here isn't a chore anymore. It's membership in a club."

  One week later.

  The strategy worked better than even I expected.

  Eden HQ—the restaurant and store—was booming, generating a constant buzz. We placed a simple sign by the exit:

  [Need Fuel? Visit Eden's Oil Up - 4th Street.]

  The result was instant.

  Traffic at the gas station tripled overnight. People were driving past three other stations just to fill up at ours. They came for the aesthetic, they stayed for the Healing Paste, and they paid the premium prices without blinking.

  Grace’s dying asset was suddenly printing money.

  We sat in my office on the top floor of Eden, watching the security feeds.

  "This is the roadmap," I told Grace. "We are going to 'Edify' every asset you have."

  "Edify?"

  "We renovate them. We brand them. We make them profitable. Your hotels, your other stations, your warehouses. We turn the Beckenfein empire into the Eden empire."

  "And Axehill?" she asked.

  "We ignore him," I said. "For now. Axehill isn't stupid. He won't attack a faction that is rapidly becoming the economic spine of the city. We need to become too big to fail. We carve out our territory with money and influence first."

  "So what is my role?" Grace asked. "If you're the brain and Aiya is the heart... what am I?"

  "You're the Matriarch," I said. "Just like your status says. You're the figurehead. You handle the politics, the networking, the old money schmoozing. You make us look legitimate while I make us dangerous."

  I extended my hand.

  "We're partners, Grace. Not owner and employee. You do what the Beckenfeins have always done. Win."

  She looked at the screens, watching the lines of cars at her gas station. She smiled.

  She shook my hand.

  "Let's win," she said.