Days had turned into weeks and weeks had tuned into months.
The conference room on the Anchor Drive floor was all glass and gleaming metal—a reflection of Dash Bolt himself. A low, dramatic hum emanated from the central holographic display, which currently held the skeletal image of a truck chassis. Dash stood before the merged Automobile Wing team, his energy the only thing louder than the room's silence. His secretary, Ace, sat ready to capture every word.
"Good morning, everyone. This is the Apex-M project," Dash began, his gaze sweeping the room, settling the nervous energy of the newly combined ChronoNexus and Anchor Drive teams. "For too long, utility has been exclusive. We build the best specialized vehicles—that doesn't change—but now we pivot to a massive, underserved market. We are going to build the most affordable, robust truck platform in Aethelgard, and we are designing it to be infinitely customizable."
The holographic model separated, revealing a core chassis riddled with standardized connection points, stripped down to its essential frame.
"The Apex-M is a Modular Chassis System (MCS). The innovation is the Quick-Connect Utility Matrix (QCUM)—a series of digital and physical standardization points. The value is in the add-ons. The owner buys the base platform, then simply plugs and plays custom modules—a flatbed, a crane arm, a tiny home pod, a mobile kitchen. We are democratizing utility."
A murmur went through the room.
Dash signaled the Design and Development leads. "Astra Vellum, Riven Torque—your first task is to lock down the specs for the QCUM. It must be universally compatible with future Anchor Drive and third-party modules."
Riven Torque, the innovative concept engineer, didn't hesitate, challenging the aesthetic immediately. "Dash, if we go purely modular and standardized for affordability, the product risks looking generic. Our market is shifting toward sophisticated aesthetics. How do we ensure Apex-M, in all its configurations, carries the signature Anchor Drive visual weight?"
Dash met the question head-on, a faint smile playing on his lips. "A valid concern, Riven. The weight will be in the engineering integrity and the speed of deployment. The core chassis should be minimalist—it's a blank canvas. The Anchor Drive signature will be in the modules themselves... We are selling a customizable economic tool. Our signature is smart utility, not merely superficial styling."
He moved to the Prototyping team, shifting his focus to manufacturing realities.
Jax Alloy, the rapid model fabricator, spoke with the gruff pragmatism of the workshop floor. "A core chassis built for volume sounds like a massive initial tooling investment. How are we hitting an 'affordable' price point without sacrificing the composite strength Anchor Drive is known for?"
"That is where the 'M' in Apex-M is key, Jax," Dash explained patiently. "The core chassis is designed for mass-produced stamped metal, not low-volume composites. We save cost and time there. Your prototyping focus... shouldn't be the core chassis—it should be fabricating the first five highly specialized QCUM-compliant modules for testing. We're prioritizing adaptability over bespoke design."
Lina Gauge, the Safety and impact analyst, shot up her hand. "If the bed, cabin, and utility racks are constantly swapped by the end-user via this QCUM system, how do we guarantee safety, especially impact and load-bearing dynamics? A quick-connect system introduces multiple new points of failure."
"Excellent point, Lina," Dash conceded easily. "The QCUM isn't just physical—it's digital. Every module will be embedded with an Anchor Drive Compliance Chip (ADCC). Before ignition, the truck's main AI checks the ADCC... If the attachment is imperfect, the truck will not engage full power. We are using software to guarantee the hardware's safety."
Viral Vinnie Billboard, the slogan-touting visionary, suddenly clapped her hands. "Dash, I love 'democratizing utility,' but that's not a billboard slogan. I need three words. A hook. What is the one thing we tell the average truck buyer?"
Dash looked her in the eye. "Vinnie, it's not a hook; it's a mission statement. Tell them this: 'Built to Evolve.' The Apex-M is the last truck they'll ever have to buy because it changes with their career. Your job... is to make the modules... the aspirational icons, not the truck itself. We are selling the concept of limitless configuration."
Planner O'Task, the To-do list guru, looked up from his tablet. "Dash, the complexity of managing a scalable QCUM ecosystem—certifying and tracking every third-party module—presents a major Compliance hurdle. The legal and liability risk grows exponentially with every new approved add-on."
"That's why the ADCC and the digital compliance framework is our central focus," Dash countered. "We don't just approve a module; we certify the ADCC integration. This puts the compliance burden on the module manufacturers to meet our digital safety standards, which Lina will define. Planner O'Task, work with Brock Briefcase (Legal) and Samara Forge (Manufacturing) to build the licensing framework. Our target is a stable, affordable Apex-M Base Platform launch in ten months."
Dash pushed off the desk, his bearing commanding the room's full attention.
"This project is not about making one great vehicle," Dash concluded, his gaze firm. "It's about redefining what a vehicle is: a dynamic tool that adapts to life, not the other way around. Every question asked here... is precisely why we are the right team for the job. You are the best minds in Aethelgard. Now, let's get to work."
The team started to break, but Ace, who had been quietly logging the entire exchange, raised her head, looking at the complexity Dash had just mapped out.
"Dash," she asked softly, capturing his attention. "How long will this take to be fully realized? To hit maximum market saturation and the full ecosystem?"
Dash paused, the confident CEO momentarily replaced by the long-term visionary. He leaned back against the holographic projector.
"Maybe eight to nine years, Ace," he replied, his voice calm, acknowledging the massive scope of the project. "The base model launches in ten months, and we release a new suite of modules every six months after that. But the true, fully realized Apex-M ecosystem—where our truck is the standardized foundation for every small business in the city—that's a nine-year vision. Until then, we focus on improving our vehicles every quarter and releasing the better version of the model annually. We build a dynasty through constant evolution."
The response wasn't a schedule; it was a prophecy. The teams, overhearing the timeframe, didn't recoil—they were energized by the sheer scale of the ambition. The Apex-M was underway.
The hours following the Apex-M briefing were a focused, relentless grind. Dash Bolt was everywhere, working with a lean intensity. He moved among the holographic stations, his shadow stretching long against the glass walls as the afternoon waned. He wasn't just directing; he was collaborating: clapping Samara Forge on the shoulder after she presented a streamlined stamping process, sketching quick, precise modifications for Riven Torque, and injecting raw, infectious excitement into the interns.
He paused near the Design & Development team, reviewing a complex CAD rendering of the Apex-M's core geometry. The work was precise, the mathematics elegant, but the job was never truly done.
His phone buzzed. He glanced at the message from Vesta and ignored it, locking his focus on the blueprint. It buzzed again—an incoming call. He saw Vesta's name and quickly typed: "A bit held up with work. Will call you back in five minutes."
He tore through two review memos, applied the final design fixes, and exactly five minutes later, he saved the file, shut down the display, and walked to his office, calling her back as the sun dipped dramatically below the Aethelgard skyline.
"Hey, busy man," Vesta said, her voice bright and cheerful.
"Wassup, birdie?" Dash replied, unable to resist the playful jab.
"Birdie? My voice doesn't chirp, Dash," Vesta protested, a smile evident in her tone.
"Your voice sounded exactly like a bird chirping, Ves," he insisted, leaning back in his executive chair.
"Fine. Anyway, are you busy tonight?" she asked.
"I am busy, but I can make time for you," Dash said, his voice instantly softening with flirtation.
"Dinner at my place, then?" Vesta suggested.
Dash agreed and ended the call. Suddenly, the relentless drive to finish the massive project had a clear, immediate deadline. He finalized the papers, sent the design files, and pulled up to Vesta's apartment in less than three hours.
Dash knocked, and Vesta opened the door, her smile wide and genuine. She immediately hugged him tightly. "I missed you," she mumbled into his shirt.
"I missed you too, Ves," Dash replied, holding her close.
"Mom sent me this food. Let's eat it while it's hot, and then we can decide what to do," Vesta suggested, leading him inside.
They ate quickly, sharing stories from their day. Once finished, Vesta curled up on the sofa.
"So, what's next?" Ves asked.
"How about you relax with a movie while I borrow your laptop? Just a couple of minor CAD updates I need to finalize before I can truly relax," Dash suggested, reaching for her machine.
"That sounds fine," she replied, a sudden mischievous glint in her eyes.
Vesta turned on the large screen and, with deliberate speed, selected an 18+ romance film. This, she decided, was fair retaliation for his recent work distraction. Though Dash had maintained perfect communication, calling her daily, his physical attention had been elsewhere, and she intended to reclaim it.
The lights went down, bathing the room in a soft glow. Dash, oblivious, settled onto the sofa next to her, pulling the laptop onto his knees to work on the design tweaks.
The movie's plot quickly moved to a hot and spicy scene. Dash's concentration broke. His eyes flicked to the screen, then back to the design, his jaw tight. He nervously undid the top two buttons of his shirt, the silk damp from the evening rush, trying desperately to focus on the intricate geometry of the chassis.
Okay, Dash, point 1. Vesta 0. He's distracted. But I can do better, she thought, a wicked spark igniting.
"This night suit is terribly uncomfortable. I need to change into something better," Vesta announced, standing up with a dramatic sigh.
Dash looked up, his expression unreadable, and Vesta vanished into the bedroom. He sighed, sensing the game but unable to place his full attention on it. Vesta emerged moments later, wearing a sheer, sexy red nightdress. Dash looked up, his eyes sweeping her from head to toe, consuming her with a quick, appreciative, but silent gaze. Then, he titled his head back down, focusing on the screen.
Plan B failed, she thought, a wave of comedic frustration washing over her. Time for Plan C.
"I can't hear the dialogue properly," she complained. "Can I increase the volume?"
"Okay, Ves," Dash replied, his eyes glued to the screen.
The volume cranked up just as the spicy scene returned. The sound of impassioned kissing, undressing, and moaning filled the space. Dash looked from the laptop screen to the TV, then back to the TV, before finally, with fierce determination, forcing his eyes onto the CAD model.
Still failed. But wait—Aura's emergency master plan! That worked on Chase, Vesta thought, suddenly energized by the memory of her friend's dating advice. "Are you thirsty? Shall I bring some water?" she asked, her eyes gleaming with hope.
He simply nodded, too focused on the laptop to form a word. Vesta smirked, walking to the kitchen. Dash watched her go and sighed to himself, running a hand through his hair.
This master plan cannot fail, Vesta decided, filling the glass. She took slow, deliberate, seductive steps back toward him. As she reached the sofa, she executed the fall—a deliberately clumsy stumble aimed at her target. The water splashed precisely onto Dash's shirt, avoiding the laptop completely.
"Oh, God, Vesta," Dash exclaimed, instantly standing up and putting the laptop safely out of the wet zone. "What was that?" he asked, his voice sharp with surprise.
"Oh, I'm so sorry!" she said, quickly pushing him to sit back down. "Let's remove your shirt fast, or else you might catch a cold," she insisted, evilly attempting to unbutton his shirt further.
Dash caught her hand, preventing her. "There's no need, Vesta. I have an extra shirt in my car. I have to leave in a little while, so let it be."
Vesta's patience snapped. She pulled her hand away and raised her voice. "What the actual hell, Dash? Are you dense or something?"
"Me? Dense? No. Why?" he answered, a look of profound amusement spreading across his face.
"I swear to God, you are so annoying!" she yelled, stomping her foot, turning to walk away and brood.
Before she could, Dash pulled her back gently, settling her onto the sofa facing him. He cupped her face in his hands. "You think I don't get what you're trying to do?"
"Yes, because you are dense!" she huffed, folding her arms.
"Well, Ms. Steele, I have a better alternative for this, though. Want to hear?"
"What is it?" she asked, still pouting.
"You could have just asked for it instead of waiting for me to initiate it. If I were actually dense, I wouldn't know what you want. And asking for what you want is okay, Vesta," Dash said, his voice tender but firm.
"Okay, Dash, I'm sorry. I get it," she said, her frustration dissolving into sheepish realization.
"No need to apologize. It's fine," he said, giving her head a gentle pat.
"Okay then, good night. Want me to walk you to your car?" she asked, testing the waters one last time.
Dash's smile turned predatory, his eyes darkening as he took in the sight of her in the red silk. "Who said I'm going home tonight, especially after the little show you put up for me?" he murmured. "You put such a nice effort in for me. It would be a waste if I don't appreciate it properly."
With that, he silenced her protests with a deep, consuming kiss. He lifted her easily, carrying her into the bedroom. He placed her on the bed, looking down at her, the playful tension replaced by pure love. "I love you," he said, pressing a kiss to her forehead.
"I love you too," she replied, smiling up at him, and the work of the day, the politics, and the playful games melted away into the intimacy of the night.
Hours later, they lay half-asleep. Vesta was nestled on his chest, his strong arm wrapped around her.
"I never thought you would be this shy in bed," he teased, his voice a low, sleepy drawl. "I thought you would be... something else" he admitted.
"Well, even I never thought you would be the exact opposite," she retorted softly, snuggling deeper.
"Anyway, let's sleep. We have to go on a date tomorrow to mark our fifth month of dating," he said.
"You're right. Good night," she mumbled and drifted off. Dash looked at her peaceful face, admiring her beauty. He pressed a kiss on her forehead and went to sleep himself.
In the master bedroom of their sprawling mansion, the city lights provided only a faint, distant glow—a mere backdrop to the Steeles' controlled environment. Sterling and Seraphina were preparing for bed, but the atmosphere was tight with unspoken concern. Sterling was propped against the plush headboard, the light from his tablet casting a cold, blue sheen over his face as he scanned financial data. Seraphina, having finished her meticulous nightly routine, caught his reflection in the dark glass of the window—his shoulders were rigid, his brow furrowed in a way that had nothing to do with the stock market.
She walked over and sat on the edge of the vast bed. "What's wrong, Ster? What are you worried about?" she asked, her voice calm and low.
Sterling sighed, setting the tablet aside with a frustrated thud. "Sera, tomorrow marks five months of them dating. Do you think Dash will ask her to marry him? If not, I am literally going to make him do it," he declared, the corporate patriarch asserting his authority over their personal lives.
"No, Ster, you are not going to do anything like that," Seraphina countered gently. "Maybe he has strategic reasons for waiting. Give them space."
"No, Sera. Guys know—they realize within the first two to six months of dating if they want someone to be their wife or not," Sterling argued, his anxiety rising. "It's the fifth month. There's still one more month to go, but I hate waiting."
He ran a hand across his jaw, a deeper, personal fear surfacing. "Sera, I'm scared. What if Vesta is just a placeholder for him until he finds someone he had dreamt about? Someone who fits his old life before he knew her?"
Seraphina took his hand, her touch grounding him. "No, no, I don't think so. Have you seen the way Dash looks at her? So lovingly, Ster. Let's wait and watch. Maybe he's following some strategic schedule, or he wants certain professional milestones met before making a life commitment," she said, speaking the language of business and strategy that always calmed him.
This seemed to reach him. "You are right. He is working on this big project, Apex-M. If Step One of this project is done properly, he doesn't have to worry about anything," Sterling mused, nodding to himself.
"What's the Step One, Ster?" Sera asked, intrigued by this new venture that was absorbing their future son-in-law.
"Getting investors to trust his design and vision. Not everyone is able to see the full nine-year scope. That's why he's accelerating the designing and prototyping part. He needs to do it faster than the timeline so that the angel investors can grasp the core concept completely," he replied, his voice regaining its analytical edge.
"Okay, that is a lot of pressure on Dash. What do you think, will he succeed?" she asked.
Sterling looked out at the distant lights, a true master of risk assessment. "With his expertise and caliber, he can. But luck plays an important role because the vision he is seeing is not the usual stuff seen in the automobile industry. I would rather say he took four steps of risk outside his comfort circle."
"I understand," Sera said, finally sliding under the luxurious sheets next to Sterling and nestling against his side. "Good night."
"Good night, my love," Sterling replied, pulling her close, the vast risk of Dash's corporate future a complicated distraction from the simple, domestic worry for his daughter's heart.