Creating an Industrial Empire in 19th Century Parallel World



A day earlier, in the United States of Avalonia, the air crackled with anticipation as Jonathan and Morgan arrived at the majestic gates of the White House. With a sense of purpose, they were joined by their trusted associates from Pittsburgh, who had been instructed to patiently await their summons outside the hallowed walls.

Escorted by a detachment of stern-faced guards, Jonathan and Morgan traversed the immaculately manicured gardens, their footsteps echoing through the corridors of power. As they approached the Oval Office, the weight of the moment hung heavy in the air, blending with the scent of authority and lingering wisps of smoke.

Behind the iconic Resolute Desk, a symbol of power and decision-making, sat President Harrison, an imposing figure with an air of quiet confidence. Puffing thoughtfully on a cigarette, he exuded a commanding presence, his gaze fixed on the horizon beyond the grand windows.

Standing steadfastly beside him was William Windom, the President's trusted Chief of Staff. With a distinguished demeanor, Windom stepped forward, his voice resonating with gravitas as he introduced himself to the visitors.

"Good afternoon, gentlemen. I am William Windom, Chief of Staff to the President," he stated, his words laced with a subtle blend of formality and warmth. "And behind me, as you already know, is President Harrison."

Jonathan and Morgan exchanged firm handshakes with Windom, their eyes reflecting both anticipation and respect for the gravity of the moment. As they approached the President's desk, Jonathan's palms grew slightly moist, a testament to the weight of standing in the presence of the leader of a nation. Meanwhile, Morgan appeared remarkably composed, exuding an air of tranquil confidence.

With a mixture of reverence and gratitude, Jonathan addressed the President, his voice carrying a tinge of awe. "Mr. President, it is a profound honor to stand before you today, and we extend our deepest gratitude for the privilege of this audience. My name is Jonathan Axelsen, the co-founder of the Axelsen & Nielsen Companies. Beside me is John Morgan, our main investor." 

"A pleasure to see you again, Mr. President. It's been a while since our last dinner," Morgan smiled, his voice warm and familiar. President Harrison's eyes sparkled with recognition, a glimmer of shared memories passing between them.

"Indeed, John," the President responded, a hint of nostalgia coloring his words. "That dinner was quite memorable. I trust you've been keeping well since then."

Morgan nodded, his gaze steady as he met the President's eyes. "Indeed, Mr. President. Now as for why we are here, we are in need of your help." 

"Please, do take a seat," Harrison invited, gesturing gracefully towards the plush chairs arranged in front of his imposing desk. Jonathan and Morgan acquiesced, settling into their seats with an air of attentiveness, their eyes fixed intently upon the President.

Harrison leaned forward, his countenance assuming a serious mien. "I surmise that I comprehend the purpose of your visit, Mr. Axelsen and Mr. Morgan. It pertains to your associate, Mr. Nielsen, does it not?"

Jonathan nodded affirmatively, his voice filled with earnestness. "Indeed, Mr. President. Mr. Nielsen is presently being held unlawfully by the British Government, based on allegations that have yet to be substantiated."

The President's gaze sharpened, his expression becoming even more resolute. "However, I must clarify, Mr. Axelsen, that the evidence presented thus far by the British authorities does indeed implicate Mr. Nielsen as the mastermind behind Princess Penelope's disappearance and her unauthorized entry into our country. I am also under the impression that both of you possess certain knowledge pertaining to this matter."

Jonathan shook his head with conviction. "No, Mr. President, I must correct you. The truth is that I alone possessed such knowledge until recently. Mr. Morgan was only made aware of the situation just before our arrival here Also, even if they do have evidence, they still don't have the right to detain an Avalonian citizen right?"

"I apologize, Mr. Axelsen, but Mr. Nielsen has done something so heinous that helping him would make me the center of a backlash. It's best that he answers his crime and be done with it. Not only that, we can't go to war with the British over one person," 

The room fell into a momentary hush, the weight of the President's words hanging in the air. Jonathan's brow furrowed, a glimmer of frustration crossing his face as he leaned forward, his voice laced with determination. 

"Mr. President, how much do you love guns?" Axelsen asked. 

"What's with the sudden question?" President Harrison arched an eyebrow, caught off guard by Jonathan's unexpected question. He leaned back in his chair, his gaze probing Jonathan's face for the meaning behind the inquiry. After a brief pause, he responded cautiously, "As the leader of a nation, I prioritize the safety and security of our citizens. Guns, when used responsibly, can be a means of protection and defense."

"Then what if we told you that we have developed a weapon, more powerful than the AN-M1 rifles that we are currently supplying our army? How would you react?" 

President Harrison's curiosity was piqued as he leaned forward, his eyes narrowing with intrigue. "A weapon more powerful than our current arsenal? That certainly sounds remarkable. 

"Mr. President, would you please give us a moment of your time to demonstrate to you those weapons?" 

President Harrison considered Jonathan's request, his gaze shifting between Jonathan and Morgan. After a moment of contemplation, he nodded, intrigued by the proposition.

"Very well, Mr. Axelsen. I am open to witnessing this demonstration of your advanced weaponry. 

"Can we use your south lawn?" 

Jonathan's request to use the south lawn of the White House caught President Harrison off guard. He hesitated for a moment, his mind calculating the potential risks and political implications of such a demonstration. However, his curiosity and desire to explore all possible avenues to resolve the situation with Mr. Nielsen prevailed.

"Using the south lawn for a demonstration of advanced weaponry is an unconventional request, Mr. Axelsen," President Harrison replied, his tone cautious. "But if you can assure me that it will be conducted safely, I am willing to grant you this opportunity."

"We have an agreement, Mr. President," Jonathan smiled.

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