The early 1930s were the grimmest of all seasons. The vibrant energy of the Roaring Twenties had been replaced by a pervasive, grinding despair. Men in tailored suits sold apples on street corners. Families were evicted from their homes and gathered in shantytowns named after the president who seemed powerless to stop their suffering. The nation had been brought to its knees by an invisible enemy: a collapse of confidence and a brutal lack of liquidity.
But on Wall Street, in the quiet, fireproof vault of the Hemsworth Bank, the only sound was the low, steady hum of prosperity. While the rest of the world was in ruins, the House of Hemsworth was thriving. Its cash reserves, stockpiled for a decade, were now a source of unparalleled power. The bank was a lifeline for the government, and the industrial empire—now including vast holdings of farmland, key supply chains, and failing companies acquired for pennies—was the only engine of commerce still running at full speed.
Arthur Hemsworth, a man who had once feared being a scavenger, now found himself a king in a kingdom of paupers. He was a constant presence at the White House, advising both President Hoover and, later, Franklin D. Roosevelt and his team. While the nation had lost its soul, the Hemsworth dynasty had never been more powerful. The moral cost, however, weighed on Arthur like a lead weight.
"They want to create a new regulatory system, Damon," Arthur said, pacing his study, a copy of the New York Times with headlines about the New Deal spread out on the desk. "The government will meddle in everything. They'll tell us what we can lend, what we can produce, and what we can pay."
Damon, now a poised and intimidating man in his mid-twenties, merely smiled. "Let them, Father. The New Deal is not a threat; it is the ultimate consolidation. They will create a system of rules that only a handful of players can navigate. We will not fight the regulations; we will write them. We will offer our expertise, our capital, and our logistical network to help them rebuild the nation. They will be so grateful, they won't even realize that they are building the new world on our terms."
Damon's strategy was simple and brilliant: he would be the first to embrace the new order, to use the government's power to eliminate his remaining rivals and cement his own monopolies. The Great Depression was not a setback for the empire; it was its coronation.
The first major play was in banking. While hundreds of banks were failing across the country, the Hemsworth Bank was a beacon of stability. When the government needed a bank to partner with to distribute loans for public works projects, the Hemsworth Bank was the only one they could trust. The family bank became the de facto national clearinghouse for government funds, and in return, Damon was given unprecedented access and influence over the new regulatory agencies. The Banking pillar was now the unassailable foundation of the entire U.S. financial system.
Next, Damon turned his attention to his industrial assets. The Thorne Motors factories were re-tooled to produce not just cars, but the vehicles for the Civilian Conservation Corps (CCC). The government needed trucks, and Thorne Motors, with its unparalleled efficiency, was the only company that could produce them on the scale required. Hemsworth Mercantile became a vital partner in the government's relief efforts, providing food and supplies to soup kitchens and relief shelters, all while consolidating its control over the nation's supply chain.
The true test of Damon's vision came in the air. While the world was reeling from the depression, Damon was pushing Vance Air Transport to develop new, larger, and more reliable aircraft. The company was still a financial drain, but Damon knew that the government, which was looking to create jobs and show signs of progress, would be willing to fund the industry's growth. When the Civil Aeronautics Act of 1938 was being written, Damon had already prepared for its regulations. He had his lawyers and lobbyists working with the government, ensuring that the new laws would benefit a company that was already prepared for them.
In 1939, the payoff came. The company, now renamed Hemsworth Airways, was awarded the first government contracts for scheduled passenger service, linking the major cities of the nation. The new Hemsworth Condor, a pressurized-cabin aircraft built with a Thorne engine and Hemsworth-acquired materials, was the first commercial plane to fly from coast to coast in under twenty-four hours. For a nation that had been grounded by despair, the idea of flying was a symbol of hope and progress. The Airlines pillar was no longer a hobby; it was now a profitable, government-backed monopoly.
The final, most revolutionary pillar was also the most private. Hemsworth Labs, isolated from the world in its New Jersey location, had hired some of the most brilliant scientific minds in the world, men and women who were jobless due to the economic crash. Damon's mandate to them was simple and unwavering: miniaturization. While the world still relied on massive vacuum tubes for electronics, Damon's team was in a race against time to develop the solid-state transistor.
In 1937, the breakthrough came. After years of tireless research and countless failures, Dr. Elias and his team developed a rudimentary, solid-state radio receiver that was a fraction of the size and cost of its competitors. It was a technological marvel. Damon, seeing the opportunity, ordered the immediate mass production of the device. The Hemsworth Radio was an instant commercial sensation. It was small enough to fit on a bedside table, cheap enough for a struggling family to afford, and a window to the outside world for a generation that had been isolated by poverty.
The public saw it as a marvel of engineering. They had no idea that the radio was the first piece of the puzzle, the first commercial product to be built with the technology that would one day power computers. The Semiconductors pillar had finally come into its own.
Arthur Hemsworth, in his twilight years, watched his son become a financial god. The boy who had once seemed like a brilliant, uncanny child was now a man of immeasurable wealth and power, a man whose word could sway presidents and whose will was a force of nature. But Arthur was not proud; he was weary.
One night, while reviewing the latest profits, Arthur looked at his son, his face a road map of a thousand unspoken fears. "I read the papers, Damon. I hear the news from Europe. The Germans are rearming. The Japanese are invading. The world is on the brink again."
Damon looked up from his balance sheet, his eyes cold and pragmatic. "Of course it is, Father. The Depression did not solve the world's problems; it merely delayed them. The world's industrial base is now centered in the United States, and we have consolidated control over a significant portion of it. The next war will not be fought for land; it will be fought for resources and industrial capacity. And we will be the one to provide them."
Arthur stared at his son, seeing not the boy he had raised, but a man who saw the world not as a home, but as a board game. "You are not worried?" Arthur asked.
"Worry is a liability, Father," Damon replied, a chilling finality in his voice. "We have spent a decade building a fortress. The world is about to descend into madness. When it does, we will once again be the ones to provide the money, the vehicles, the fuel, and the technology. We will lend to both sides and profit from both, if necessary. The war will be a terrible human tragedy, but for the House of Hemsworth, it will be the final step to global dominance. We are not a dynasty; we are a destiny. And the storm is coming."