Steady. Breathe.. Aim...

At the right angle, the sphere moved over the board, crashing into the last remaining. Each and every sphere disappeared off the board. Cue in another bet won, a charismatic and competitive robot taking all the shares for himself, promptly walking out his own casino. Fooled and played with, yet it mattered not, as Beowulf Hawthorne was a businessbot admired by many.

Rumoured to come from nothing, he was the ideal to look up to, in order to truly make it within the futuristic society of Iagoon Fisaris. Beowulf started with a simple, small execution, that led into greater ventures centuries down the line. It took him only four centuries to rise to second place within the galactical economy- And if that wasn't something to look up from, surely the robot had another quality that'd leave one awestruck. Beowulf was utterly incredible, and one would have to investigate his infrastructure to find something wrong with him.

At least, that was the image the robot successfully put up.

A mastermind in his fields, it only made sense to utilise his tools to his advantage.

A fun game to be played, having a plethora of cards in his hand.

— PISS-POOR BEGINNINGS —

In truth, Beowulf did come from nothing. About 1,500 years ago, the robot was born on a different planet within the same solar system- Naloria, a sphere that functioned as a gargantuan mining rig. The Hawthornes had been cogs within the system for centuries, set in motion by some galactic crisis. His parents were the last of their names, and the robot wasn't particularly enthused about an existence filled with nothing but rocks. It was an understatement to say they weren't too well off, which in hindsight, felt like a sick joke- They were futuristic walking machinery, yet akin to nothing on the grander scheme of operations.

The robot turned a blind eye, once his father returned more and more often in need of repairs. He couldn't grasp what in the mines could possibly cause such severe damage- Not as if he could've asked anyway, as questions left in the air would turn foul, looming over their small household as the years passed by.

When Beowulf was about 300 years old, another addition was welcomed in the tiny structure that reeked of piss-poor jewels. From the moment Jonquill cued in, Beowulf was set on protecting his younger sibling from the dangers that lay so nearby. Mother lectured strictly on the hazards outside, and Beowulf would shush her if she berated Quill for not listening again. Father complained angrily about lack of income, and Beowulf would drop his cut if he dared take Quill's shares again. Both tried to take care of them the best they could, supposedly, though Beowulf had by then long stopped believing.

Despite the growing anguish, something snapped in sympathy when mother vanished out of nowhere. Their father a mess, Beowulf had to shield Quill from witnessing the downward spiral into despair- Keys put back in place at later hours- Alcoholic odours replacing the usual minerals- Bullet holes left open and wires exposed with no funds for repairs. Questions resurfaced, louder than ever, screaming to be answered.

Close to the 50th anniversary of mother's disappearance, Beowulf finally gripped his hands tightly around the notes that held the answers.

To say it was a piss-poor discovery, was a severe understatement.

— HALF A TRUTH —

For centuries, father had attempted to climb ranks within the Rhapsody- The supposed underworld that allowed opportunity and luck to flourish the lives of even the worst off. Beowulf had heard rumours of it- Whispers amongst the sounds of cracked gems- Tales amongst drinks sipped during breaks- Legends that left one wondering, needing to know if there truly was an easier way out.

Sought by many, his father was on the run- He'd put himself at risk- He'd put mother's life at risk- And now, he'd put his children at risk. Their lives, unless he were to give himself up- Dead or alive.

That night, Beowulf knocked him out in the dead of the night, right in the middle of Quill's snores heard above. Without hesitation, as Beowulf refused the risk, taking the element of surprise.

To the below the robot then went, the single rusty kitchen knife poking into the back of his old man.

"Please, Wolfgang," his father sobbed as he was thrown in front of the shadows, "please let me explain myself!"

Silenced in shock as a shiny, sharp dagger flung from the dark, held by a figure clad in robes all over. The son looked closer, slowly finding faint reflections of visors and lights staring back. It was at least a handful of them.

"You're bringing in your own father?" one of them questioned, with a spiteful undertone.

"My brother and I could use the reward more than he does", Beowulf negotiated.

The old man had begun shedding tears again, which were rendered invisible within the dark- Not that it mattered much, as the oil only reminded the son of how unfair and foul life had treated them thus far.

"I did it with good reason!" he pleaded again. "A promise to get us all out of here!"

The robot did nothing but return his stare with spite, akin to whatever hatred he had caused to the shadowy figures. The son said nothing, even when the father shared his intentions- Even when the father explained how the seeds were sown- Even when the father shared the truth of his mother- Even when the father regretted all the mistakes along the way- Even when the father admitted he'd lost himself to despair- Even when the father apologised over and over and over again until there was no tomorrow.

To say he stopped believing long ago, was a severe understatement.

A slight nod reflecting in the faces of darkness. The voice of an old man lost to time, tuned out as if insignificant. Sounds of bent metals and wailing that would grow quieter and quieter. One hefty sack of coin left behind, enough to leave this piss-poor life.

A brother orphaned and a son no more.

Beowulf felt nothing.

— IMPROVED MEANS —

As if he'd won the lottery, Quill surprisingly took the news of father's sudden disappearance better than expected. With that out of the way, the brothers packed the few belongings they had, soon on their way to the stars- Towards the capital of the solar system, the heart of essentially their entire species. Planet Aqialeus, an endless metallic city that would provide opportunities and a new life served on a platter- And Beowulf finally wanted to dine as a king.

The moment they arrived, Beowulf pulled himself and Quill towards something profitable- Then again, most if not all luxuries here, were worth miles more than pure resources mined for expansion. The siblings threw themselves at a crash course in business. At first with rare finds resold to interested parties- Then it turned into sponsorships for local businesses- After that, it was connections made that allowed the brothers to create assets- About a century later, they had the means to officially open their first company- The fun had only just started.

With Beowulf the brains of the operation, the older brother handled everything related to forms and finances. With Quill the talker, he handled marketing and sales as a charismatic dealer. It brought in attention, funds, fame, riches- The Hawthornes felt the luxury of quaint living, for the first time in centuries. Beowulf basked in it, enjoying the feeling of control he had finally gained over his life- Quill, on the other hand, could finally look past surviving, wanting to follow his curiosity into the security division instead.

The sole sharer of what they had, Beowulf regardless still supported his brother where needed. Leaving their piss-poor origins behind, didn't mean that Beowulf would stop looking out for him- If anything, he was wary of the modern world they both could finally engage with. It was full of new, shiny gadgets- While exciting, the robot couldn't help but feel powerless without knowledge. There was no chance they would be failed again by outer circumstances- The older brother ensured it as a vow to himself and his brother, determined to maintain their well-deserved lives evermore.

And so they did, over the centuries that followed.

Quill excelled as a police officer.

Beowulf excelled as a businessbot.

The riches would come flowing in, and it would only be a matter of time for the Hawthornes to rise further and further within the economy and its society.

— INFLUENTIAL CONTROL —

It was roughly 600 years ago, when the Hawthorne name had officially reached the second place within the economy. The amount of power and control possible, by merely waving currency and shares in hand, was freeing to Beowulf. The entrepeneur could pull the strings of his own life, knowing about the circumstances every second of waking moments. He refused to bow to outer forces, not wanting to be whipped into a corner once again. He refused to, out of sake for himself, but his brother more so. Finally they had their lives together, shaping their course at will by the snap of a finger followed by Beowulf's wishes.

Yet, unknown outside factors persisted. 

And that was a thought he couldn't handle.

No more fear. No more hurt. No more anguish.

Beowulf would go to the ends of infinity to rid of all the possible pains permanently.

Eventually he would cave, peering once more into shadows witnessed long ago. Multiple reflections of visors and lights would return his gaze, as if rats in sewers. Clad in shadows himself, he dared to enter the field of darkness, wanting to play his cards- Hidden behind the alias Thanatos, the robot would pose as an aspiring mob boss, searching for a pawn that would be capable of bringing him up the steps- And one he did find, by the alias of Python, a bounty hunter rumoured to excel in coding, by that extent hacking, within the underworld.

It started out innocently. Tests to deem the potential candidate fit enough. More tests to deem the potential candidate trustworthy. Then an initial mission to deem the potential candidate capable and adaptable. Python ticked all the boxes without issues, and Thanatos was least to say impressed. A contract signed behind closed doors, Python had given up his information in exchange for a promising career- It was as if he'd been knighted by a king, and Thanatos was all the more eager to send his pawn onto the board. The endeavour started with one mission a week, which would gradually increase to two, to three and so forth.

When it was clear Python was a reliable employee, Thanatos revealed himself to be none other than Beowulf Hawthorne. It strengthened the professional bond they already had, which would eventually seep into zones other than work.

Beowulf didn't hesitate to inform Python of an urgent mission that was deeply personal. After half a century of working together, the entrepeneur thought Python was more than deserving to return a vital package- His old man, somehow still alive after abandoning him all those years ago. Reduced to nothing but a pawn to folks within the underworld, Beowulf initially regarded it as good riddance- Though sympathy snapped once again, once the son saw how truly bad the father had it- Glitching terms that sounded barely anything like words- Metallic plating broken over and over again beyond repair- Fractured internals that left him clueless, or as his old man had put it before, not knowing any better.

His reliable asset sent to retrieve another, Python returned without issue. A team of underworld scientists and manufacturers put together, in order to restore the old to the nearly dead- Beowulf called the project EAC-001, as it was the first endeavour he truly didn't know the possible outcomes of. Mending the metals- Fixing the fractured- Resurrecting as an AI- After many attempts it was deemed a failure, and Beowulf allowed his old man the mercy of passing on, no more needing to suffer than he already had. The entrepeneur left his brother Quill in the dark, for they both believed father had been gone long ago already.

Beowulf felt almost nothing. Truthfully, this time.

Not wanting to abruptly end a potential entrance into a new field, however, Beowulf kept the team employed. The robot added a new project to his entry, dubbing it with the same acronym of EAC- Experimental Arbitrary Concoctions.

Creating AI would open pathways to obedient, controllable individuals- With rules attached, regular folk were always outside factors- Though with his influence, AI made specifically for the businessbot himself, was all too appealing- Beowulf felt dim for not having thought of this excellent idea sooner. It would start a chain of these AI, built in secrecy, which would bring Beowulf even higher up within his fields.

— MASTERMIND OF MANY —

Slowly, but surely, the EAC Projects would replace the unreliable majority of Beowulf's workforce. The AI that successfully made it, were loyal to Beowulf to a fault- After all, it was programmed into them, how could they not?

With the flick of a switch, Beowulf could erase their identity and whole being as if it was nothing. Beowulf could steer these AI to do his tasks and bidding as he pleased, as if he'd reduced AI back to its initial beginnings- Mindless drones that would follow the order of the authority. It gave him more control, more power, more influence- And the robot enjoyed it like it was a royal buffet.

The entrepeneur felt fully comfortable about his company, once his most sensitive shares were replaced by his own AI employees. Anything that wasn't as secretive, the robot kept open to outside factors, albeit his own AI still preferred. The few outsiders that remained in the centres of his fields, were the EAC teams and long-standing bonds, such as his favourite bright-minded hacker from the underworld. Beowulf's employees were loyal, obedient and above all, his. Beowulf was nothing short of materialistic, let alone possessive, and ensured that his esteemed employees knew this- All the more perfect that they all rowed with it, and Beowulf could move their positions on the board without any issue.

Without them, he wouldn't have been able to bring his influences beyond the mere economy- Without them, he wouldn't have had his truly irreplaceable company- Without them, he wouldn't have been able to shower Quill in riches as much, especially for his marriage- Without them, he wouldn't have been as secure in life- Yet it wasn't enough, it seemingly never was. There always was a plethora of outside factors, and Beowulf had a need to have it all in control. For his sake, but for his brother's sake more so. No uncontrolled harm would befall them ever again.

The entrepeneur sought to improve his means of control. If he could wrap the economy and the underworld around his fingers, surely he could do better than that- Beowulf commissioned EAC Projects with grander purposes and more ambition- Beowulf sympathised with the beloved leader of security, sending him a gift of an AI meant to replace his lost sibling- Beowulf kept more and more AI stationed within the digital servers of Horizon Genesis, so they could analyse it- Beowulf sent more and more AI into other realms within futuristic society, to infiltrate it for information.

A steady rise to heights never thought possible before- Beowulf was unstoppable, and at this point he felt akin to an emperor.

— EVERYTHING FINDS A WAY AROUND —

The businessbot would experience the hurt of an outer force truly once more, ripping out another part of himself, when he sent his favourite to the physical structure that housed Horizon Genesis- The heart of AI, the heart of where his EAC Projects were made- Meant to gain information about its code, firewalls and other securities, so future projects could perform undetected easier.

It was the first time Beowulf underestimated the opponent.

Python had been found out, though the hacker was retrieved just in time- Albeit for procedures Beowulf wasn't looking forward to. All his memories related to Hawthorne and his company deleted, Python was forcibly given up and dumped on the streets- A tip off from another employee, and Beowulf's favourite would never come in contact again.

It hurt.

Even a replacement didn't help, despite the fact this EAC Project performed miles more efficiently in terms of programming and hacking.

Though, the pain was lifted a tad, when Beowulf would look to his brother and how his life had unfolded. Quill and his wife were expecting, and a bundle of metallic joy would warm Beowulf to the core. He had become an uncle, and another addition to the family, was to be looked after with all the care he could. Keeping his focus on his brother's happiness, Beowulf could eventually move past his own losses.

Unfortunately, it didn't last long.

Somehow, despite all the odds fought, outside factors would always find their way back to seep into life, ruining it and tainting it over and over evermore. It got worse again, when Quill's firstborn daughter had succumbed to a rare and deadly virus, only capable of affecting pure Norinan robots. It got even worse, when Quill couldn't handle the funeral and divorce that followed.

It got slightly less worse, when Beowulf suggested the idea of a replacement daughter, an AI that was without pain and would be fully his. It improved slightly more again, when the first daughter, Patchinko, brought joy into Quill's life again. Even more so, when her two younger sisters followed, of the names LPS and Tamacat.

Then it all came crashing down again like nothing had mattered at all for eternity, when Jonquill took an easy way out.

The ex-wife with another. A Northrad, to be precise- Which fuelled further hatred within Beowulf for the number one spot of the economy. Despite that, the entrepeneur had to keep faith, as he arranged his brother's end, and took in all three of his nieces. He was a beloved entrepeneur, but even more beloved family member. The robot vowed he would look after them with all the love he had available, protecting them from all that could possibly harm them, giving them lives filled with nothing but sheer happiness. The only one he would possibly trust with their care, was his own personal assistant Mordecai. A doting uncle, but an even more doting de facto father figure. The robot always put family first, and he would never make an exception for the ones that were part of it.

It got brighter again- Despite the fear, hurt and anguish that stilled in the background. His nieces were everything to Beowulf, and didn't render him devoid of a reason to live.

It didn't matter if he lost some stocks. It didn't matter if he had to deal with yet another ass from the underworld. It didn't matter if he had yet another overambitious EAC Project gone wrong. It didn't matter if he had given into his gambling addiction. It didn't matter if he saw his favourite ex-everything at one of his establishments once again, unable to grasp what was within reach. It didn't matter if he had to beat the impossible Northrads to overthrow their economic throne, becoming the ruler of all.

The entrepeneur would continue pulling his strings were possible, all in the name of safety for himself and his family. Whether this would turn into a double-edged sword in the time to come, was a question left best answered in the court of outside factors. At the end of each waning day, family was all that mattered to Beowulf and nothing else- It would be the sole and only thing in life that would keep his core warm evermore.