….
[Pixy Studios | Executive Suite]
….
"Get out of this room."
"Sir??!!"
The response didn't come in words. Instead, a heavy object flew past the assistant's head, missing him by mere inches.
It slammed violently into the floor-to-ceiling glass door behind them, leaving a spiderweb of sharp cracks radiating across the pane before dropping heavily to the carpet.
When the dust settled, the object rolled onto its side.
It was a nameplate, the bold lettering reflecting the dim office light:
"Brad Carter - Script Review Coordinator"
Brad didn't dare open his mouth again.
White-faced and trembling, he did exactly as he was instructed, quickly backing out of the room alongside his terrified assistant, John, as the heavy door clicked shut behind them.
Left alone in the sudden, suffocating quiet, the man who had thrown the nameplate, Richard Bethell, the CEO of Pixy Studios, stood completely rigid, staring out in grim silence at the sprawling city skyline through the massive windows of the office.
His expression was not looking good… and they all knew 'cause' and the 'name' behind it.
His eyes were fixed on the reflection of the projection screen behind him, which displayed the weekend box office actuals.
====
[John Wick - Opening Weekend (Domestic): $94.2 Million]
[Worldwide Cumulative (3 Days): $162.5 Million]
====
Right below it, in a font that seemed almost mockingly small, were the numbers for Pixy Studios' own counter-programming effort.
====
[Galactic Paws - Opening Weekend (Domestic): $14.1 Million]
====
Richard's expression hardened into a mask of cold fury.
He looked at his Head of Creative Strategy, who was sitting at the mahogany conference table with the posture of a man waiting for an execution.
"Fourteen million." Richard said, his voice dangerously quiet. "We spent eighty million marketing a family-friendly animated feature specifically to capture the demographic that couldn't buy a ticket to an R-rated assassin movie–
"....and we made fourteen million?"
The strategy head cleared his throat nervously. "Sir, the tracking models didn't account for the sheer cultural saturation of [John Wick]. The Keanu Reeves interview transformed the film into a must-see event. Interest spread far beyond the expected audience, and the demographics bled over. Teenagers who couldn't buy tickets simply sneaked in, or bought tickets for our film and walked into his."
"I don't pay you to explain my failures to me after the fact." Richard snapped, slamming his hand onto the table.
He sank into his leather chair, rubbing his temples.
The reality was suffocating.
Regal Seraphsail was no longer just a hotshot director who had gotten lucky with a $500,000 indie debut or a nuisance who had rejected Pixy Studios' initial lowball offer years ago.
He is a systemic threat.
Regal was methodically dismantling the traditional studio ecosystem.
He had a chokehold on the superhero genre through the MDCU and dominated the prestige drama conversation after sweeping the Golden Globes with [I Want To Eat Your Pancreas]. He had reshaped modern comedy with [The Hangover] and, through his ownership of Crunchyroll, effectively controlled one of the most important gateways between Western audiences and Japanese animation.
And now? He had just redefined the R-rated action genre, turning a mid-budget revenge story into a global juggernaut.
Regal had grown too dangerous.
He wasn't just taking market share but starving the old guard entirely, and if Pixy Studios failed to break his momentum, they would be reduced to fighting over his scraps within three years.
"We need a new narrative." Richard said, his eyes narrowing as he stared at the screen. "If we can't beat him at the box office right now, then we will beat him in the press by attacking the brand."
"How?" the strategy head asked cautiously.
"Look at what he just released." Richard pointed at the John Wick numbers. "It is a hyper-violent, blood-soaked massacre. He is glorifying murder. Call our contacts in the press. Mobilize the parenting blogs and the conservative watchdogs."
"I want think-pieces published by tomorrow morning about how [John Wick] is dissolving the moral fabric of our youth. Push the narrative that Hollywood has lost its way, that children's minds are being corrupted by this senseless violence, and that the industry desperately needs to pivot back to wholesome, family-friendly animation."
The strategy head nodded slowly, catching the vision. "Frame Regal as irresponsible, and position our animated slate as the moral cure."
Richard leaned back, a cold smirk finally touching his lips. "Let's see the 'visionary' direct his way out of a moral panic."
….
[Two Days Later | LIE Studios | Main Press Atrium]
The coordinated smear campaign had hit the internet.
Over the past forty-eight hours, a dozen prominent entertainment blogs and several major news outlets had run mysteriously synchronized editorials. They condemned the 'ballet of bullets' in John Wick, questioning the ethics of a studio that would release such a brutal film.
"Is Regal Seraphsail Corrupting a Generation?" read one headline.
"The Case for Wholesome Animation Over Mindless Bloodshed." read another.
The narrative was loud, aggressive, and clearly designed to force Regal into a defensive apology.
Regal Seraphsail, however, did not apologize.
He didn't even bother releasing a press release.
And the media had no way presented the chance to question him, other than a wait for the official Q&A.
"Mr. Seraphsail!" A reporter from a major syndicated network called out. "There has been significant backlash from family organizations regarding the extreme violence in [John Wick]. Several rival studio executives have anonymously stated that films like yours are dissolving the moral standards of young audiences, and that the industry needs to focus on family-friendly animation. Do you have a response?"
The room fell entirely silent, waiting for the trap to snap shut.
Regal looked at the reporter and, rather than appearing angry or defensive, seemed profoundly amused by the question.
"I find it fascinating." Regal began. "...that the studios expressing such deep, sudden concern for family-friendly animation are the same ones whose animated films just lost their opening weekend to an R-rated movie about a grieving hitman."
A collective, muffled rippled through the press corps.
It was a surgical, devastating strike at Pixy Studios, delivered without ever saying their name.
Regal leaned casually against the podium. "But if there is a genuine concern that the world is lacking in high-quality, family-friendly animation... then I suppose I have some good news to share."
He paused, letting the silence stretch just long enough to ensure every camera in the room was locked onto him.
"The audience doesn't need to worry." Regal said, a faint, razor-sharp smile breaking across his face. "Because LIE Studios is officially releasing an animated feature film later this year."
The atrium exploded.
Reporters began shouting over each other, hands shooting into the air.
"An animated film? Are you talking about Crunchyroll?"
"Is it a MarvelDC adaptation?"
"When did this go into production?!"
Regal raised a hand, silencing the room once more.
"It is not an anime, and it is not a superhero film." Regal clarified. "It is a fully 3D-animated feature that we have been building in absolute secrecy with Unique FX for the past three years. It is a martial arts comedy, and it has more heart than any 'wholesome' cash-grab currently sitting in theaters."
He stepped away from the podium, offering one final glance over his shoulder.
"It's called Kung Fu Panda. You will see the trailer next month."
In a single, two-minute press conference, Regal hadn't just deflected the smear campaign.
He had hijacked it, using his rivals' own moral panic as free marketing to announce his aggressive expansion into the one demographic they thought they still controlled.
The message to Richard Bethell and the rest of Hollywood was unmistakable: There is no genre you own that I cannot take from you.
….
[A Week Later | LIE Studios | Post-Production Bay 3]
The editing bay was dark, illuminated only by the glow of the massive reference monitors.
Zack Barg sat in his ergonomic chair, scrolling rapidly through a dense, intricately stacked timeline.
The door hissed open, and Regal walked in, holding two cups of black coffee. He handed one to Zack and dropped onto the leather sofa at the back of the room.
"I saw the press conference." Zack muttered, not taking his eyes off the screen. "You essentially just told the animation giants of Hollywood to pack their bags. You realize they're going to put a hit out on you, right?"
"They can get in line behind the rest of them." Regal said dryly. "How is Gotham looking?"
Zack finally stopped scrubbing the timeline.
He spun his chair around, and for a moment, he just stared at Regal. The exhaustion on the editor's face was completely overshadowed by a look of pure, unadulterated awe.
"Fede Álvarez is a madman." Zack breathed. "And you are a genius for finding him."
For the past several weeks, Fede Álvarez had been directing the first half of [The Dark Knight] - the mythic, grueling origin story of Bruce Wayne.
While Regal had been managing [John Wick]'s release and dealing with the press, Fede and Christian Isaac had been waging a war on physics and human endurance on the soundstages and the sub-level garages.
"Okay you got me excited." Regal commanded softly.
Zack turned back to the console and hit the spacebar.
On the center monitor, the raw, color-graded dailies of the first chapter came to life.
It was breathtaking, with the League of Shadows training sequences feeling viscerally cold, Christian Isaac moving with a terrifying, restrained lethality, and the camera work remaining aggressive, grounded, and suffocatingly real throughout.
And then came the Tumbler sequence.
The two-and-a-half-ton beast of matte-black armor roared across the screen, its sheer weight unmistakable as real metal hurtled through the air and the massive suspension coils devoured the landing with a brutal crunch that Zack had perfectly matched to the sound design.
Christian Isaac's face in the cockpit wasn't acting against a green screen.
The G-force, heat from the afterburner, and the absolute tactical superiority of the Batman had been forged in iron and grit.
"Fede officially wrapped the first half of principal photography three hours ago." Zack said, pausing the footage on a striking silhouette of Christian standing over the broken city. "He delivered everything you asked for."
Zack turned his chair around again, looking at Regal with a mix of excitement and trepidation.
"The first chapter is in the can, Regal." Zack murmured. "It's flawless. But it also sets an impossibly high bar. The audience is going to feel safe, like the hero has complete control of the board."
Regal stood up slowly.
He walked over to the monitor, staring at the imposing, indestructible image of the Dark Knight that Fede had so meticulously crafted.
A familiar blue interface shimmered faintly in his peripheral vision, signaling the shift in his [World-Class] Director skill from an observational state to active command.
"This is more than just good." Regal said, a slow, dangerous smirk spreading across his face.
He turned away from the monitor, buttoning his jacket.
Fede had done his job perfectly, as he had built an immovable object, and now, it was time to introduce the unstoppable force.
"Fede built the foundation, by giving Gotham its savior" Regal said, his voice dropping into a register of absolute, terrifying certainty.
Regal walked toward the door of the editing bay.
"Now." Regal said, his hand resting on the handle. "It's my turn to film. So tell Darren to get the makeup on. It's time to burn it all down."
.
….
[To be continued…]
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