Chapter 34: The Shadow of War
In late 1935, as Victor sat before a fire in his private library, he read the latest reports from Europe with a growing chill. The economic recovery was uneven. Fascist rhetoric filled the airwaves. And in Germany, one name appeared too often:
Adolf Hitler.
Victor had seen it before—the rise of nationalism turned cancerous. He knew where this path would lead.
It was time to prepare.
A Warning to Brussels
Victor requested a private meeting with the Minister of the Colonies.
In December, they met in a secure room in Antwerp. No aides. No journalists.
Victor brought intelligence gathered by his economic monitoring teams and private correspondents. He outlined:
The remilitarization of the Rhineland
Surging defense budgets in Germany
Political purges consolidating Hitler's power
"You must begin contingency planning," Victor warned. "The next war will not be trench lines and horses. It will be steel, fuel, and skies."
The minister nodded politely but skeptically. "You're always early, Delcroix. Perhaps too early."
Victor offered no further argument. He had not come for permission.
He had come to signal.
The Arsenal of the Equator
Back in the Congo, plans were already in motion.
In early 1936, Victor allocated 780 million BEF to establish the Congolese Defense Works Consortium (CDWC)—a decentralized network of military research and production facilities.
Key divisions included:
Mboko Engineering: focused on medium tanks with reinforced armor and suspension designs derived from future blueprints
N'Seke Aviation Group: designing aluminum-framed monoplanes with retractable landing gear and enclosed cockpits
DelTech Munitions: producing small arms with improved reliability and mass-production tooling
Synex Armor Division: experimenting with synthetic fiber weaves and resin-cured layered fabrics—early-stage Kevlar analogues
All R&D was compartmentalized. Only Victor and a few trusted engineers knew the full scope.
The Secret of Fission
At a remote site near Lake Tanganyika, Victor broke ground on a facility simply labeled Project Prometheus.
He had touched a Geiger counter. And from that contact, he gained everything:
The scientific principles of uranium enrichment
The design of early cyclotrons
The chain reaction math for nuclear fission
The Congo, he knew, was one of the few places on Earth where uranium of bomb-grade quality could be mined.
Project Prometheus began with geological surveys and secured mine development. A reactor prototype was planned within two years. Enrichment would come after.
It would be the most secret project of his empire.
Technological Firestorm
Victor used his ability monthly to accelerate defense development:
Touching a bombsight yielded knowledge of advanced targeting systems
A tank tread gave insight into suspension stress tolerances
A radio headset opened blueprints for encrypted battlefield comms
These future fragments were filtered, simplified, and made feasible with 1930s materials and infrastructure.
By late 1936, CDWC was producing:
Light tanks (MK-1A) with 37mm cannons
Fighter prototypes with top speeds of 460 km/h
Kevlar-padded vests for elite troops (limited run of 3,000 units)
Radio-guided bombs in testing phases
All catalogued. All hidden behind export companies, shell divisions, and "agricultural development grants."
The Moral Question
One evening, Gérard entered Victor's office holding a dossier labeled "Prometheus—Reactor Core Modeling."
He paused.
"Do you truly want this power?" he asked. "You've built a world to live in. This creates a world that can be ended."
Victor stared at the wall map.
"I don't want it," he said. "But one day, someone will. And they must know… we are not helpless."
Gérard nodded slowly, placing the file down.
"Then let us make sure it is ours first."
The Quiet Armament
By 1937, the Congo was a hidden fortress.
No parades. No speeches. Just progress.
The world saw factories, schools, culture.
They did not see the arsenal beneath.
But they would.
Because the storm was coming.
And Victor Delcroix would be ready.
Chapter 35: Schism and Sovereignty
In the spring of 1937, whispers turned to inquiries, and inquiries to accusations.
The Belgian Parliament had received partial intelligence—anonymous, speculative, but troubling.
Somewhere in the Congo, military-grade manufacturing was underway. Tanks. Munitions. Radio-guided explosives.
Such activities were expressly forbidden by colonial charters.
And yet, they appeared to be happening.
The Investigation
In April, a discreet delegation from the Ministry of Colonies arrived in Léopoldville. They posed as economic auditors, but their remit was clear: confirm or deny the allegations.
They were polite. Methodical. And easily misdirected.
What they found was a dense web of civilian-facing companies. Delcroix Medical. Horizon Freight. Synex Agrochemicals. Horizon Optics.
None listed munitions.
None listed weapons.
But their supply chains hinted at something deeper. Steel alloys too pure. Circuitry too advanced. Power systems beyond civilian need.
The auditors sent word back: Something is hidden. And it is large.
The Parliamentary Storm
By May, the issue had reached the Chamber of Representatives in Brussels. An emergency session was called. The Prime Minister remained cautious, but voices from the right and center erupted:
"Delcroix controls a shadow military!"
"He flaunts our laws and mocks our sovereignty!"
"We must revoke his concessions and seize his Belgian holdings!"
A vote passed: an order to initiate legal revocation of Victor Delcroix's licenses, assets, and operational rights within Belgium.
A move intended to break him.
It did not.
Victor's Counterplay
The moment the decree reached his desk in Léopoldville, Victor convened a private emergency session of his board.
He had expected this.
In the past year, he had quietly transferred most of his equity holdings into independent Congolese trusts—held legally by local entities but functionally under his control.
He had replaced Belgian officers with Congolese or neutral European directors. Critical infrastructure—ports, railways, steelworks—were legally owned by the Congo Development Syndicate, registered in neutral Luxembourg.
Even the land titles had shifted.
Belgium could seize Delcroix's properties in Antwerp and Ghent.
But they could not touch the Congo.
Victor had no intention of abandoning Belgium forever. He simply needed to wait—until the kingdom needed him more than it feared him. The war he foresaw would shift the balance. And when that day came, he would return. But on his terms.
The Formation of the Vanguard
Simultaneously, Victor accelerated plans he had long prepared.
He authorized the formal creation of the Légion Industrielle—a paramilitary security force tasked with protecting Delcroix infrastructure. It was framed as a private defense corps.
But it was more.
The Légion's core members were trained in fortified academies. Equipped with MK-1A tanks, radio systems, armored trucks, and experimental armor, they numbered 5,000 by September.
Their loyalty was to Victor.
And their purpose was clear: protect the dream.
Belgium Strikes Back
In retaliation, Brussels issued seizure orders on:
Delcroix's properties in Ghent, including port infrastructure
All Belgian bank accounts linked to Delcroix enterprises
His personal residence in Antwerp
These assets—valued at over 220 million BEF—were placed under administrative control.
The message was unmistakable:
You may rule the colony. But you will not rule the kingdom.
Victor's Quiet Resolve
In his office, Victor studied the notices with calm detachment.
Gérard stood at his side. "They move like men pushing against water," he said. "Nothing they strike remains."
Victor folded the documents, placing them in a locked drawer.
"They are panicking. And that means we are winning."
He looked at a map—of ports, of energy grids, of supply routes, and secure storage vaults.
Then, with deliberate care, he wrote a single line in his private journal:
They can seize what they want now. But when the storm comes, they will come to me.
Chapter 36: Empire Without a Crown
By early 1938, Victor Delcroix no longer needed Belgium.
His companies—once required to route exports through Antwerp and Ghent—now operated a vast, independent logistics chain. Cargo left Léopoldville or Matadi, reached global ports via fast-loading container ships, and docked directly in New York, Buenos Aires, Cape Town, and Marseille.
The Congo had become an autonomous industrial behemoth.
And Victor, its silent sovereign.
A World Without Middlemen
Delcroix Freight International signed long-term agreements with shipping consortiums in Brazil and the United States. American factories began buying Congolese copper, lithium, and steel directly—shipped in Delcroix's own standardized containers, tracked via telegraph-linked manifests.
Pharmaceutical exports followed suit. Penicillin derivatives, vaccines, and new synthetic drugs reached European and South American markets without ever passing through Belgian customs. Profits soared.
By the end of the first quarter of 1938:
Steel exports exceeded 10 million tons annually
Pharmaceutical exports brought in over 1.2 billion BEF in revenue
Direct trade bypassing Belgium accounted for 65% of total exports
Belgium noticed—but could not stop it.
The State Within the Colony
Victor's companies built roads faster than colonial authorities. His schools outperformed the state system. His hospitals were better equipped, his civil servants better paid.
In practice, nearly every administrative function in large regions of the Congo was operated by Delcroix entities.
Taxes were paid to Brussels. But order, services, and prosperity came from the Company.
Local leaders deferred to Victor's administrators. Even Belgian colonial officers increasingly coordinated with Horizon Security Forces, not the overstretched colonial gendarmerie.
Maps still showed Congo as Belgian.
But reality was different.
The Legion Expands
Anticipating the storm gathering in Europe, Victor expanded the Légion Industrielle rapidly.
By September 1938:
Active personnel: 22,000 soldiers
Armored vehicles: 340 light and medium tanks (MK-1A, MK-2B)
Aerial fleet: 72 operational aircraft, including 24 long-range reconnaissance planes
Infantry gear: Modern rifles, encrypted field radios, kevlar-layered armor vests for elite units
The Legion was no longer a private security force.
It was an army.
And it answered only to Victor.
The Naval Frontier
Using his ability, Victor designed a new generation of battleship—sleek, efficient, and years ahead of global standards. Built in modular drydocks in Matadi and Léopoldville, the Tigre-class warships boasted:
Reinforced hybrid hulls
Automated loading systems for heavy artillery
Early radar-assisted targeting
Enclosed anti-aircraft platforms
Alongside them, he constructed military-grade transport vessels—capable of rapid deployment of men, tanks, and supplies across Atlantic or Indian routes.
Four Tigre-class ships were commissioned by year's end.
The seas, like the skies, now carried Victor's signature.
Signals from the North
In Berlin, Hitler annexed Austria.
In Prague, tensions rose.
In Paris and London, warnings echoed—but responses were timid.
Victor watched silently.
He knew war was no longer a matter of if—but when.
The Kingmaker in the Jungle
At a private dinner in Léopoldville, an American trade attaché leaned in toward Victor.
"You've done something no one expected," he said. "You built a nation without flags. An empire with no borders."
Victor merely smiled. "I built an ark," he replied. "Because I know what flood is coming."
Outside, across the Congo basin, machines rumbled through jungles, aircraft buzzed over new runways, and thousands of men trained in the heat of rising ambition.
Victor Delcroix had no crown.
But the world would soon discover:
He ruled all the same.