In Marvel with the Force?

The glow of the monitor illuminated Tyr's face as he leaned back in his chair, one leg propped against the edge of the desk. The numbers on the screen were staggering—his revenue from Terraria, Rocket League, and now pre-sales of Bloodborne had skyrocketed beyond anything he had anticipated.

"Multimillionaire," Tyr muttered under his breath, shaking his head in disbelief. "Guess the grind was worth it."

Argos's emblem flickered to life on the screen beside him. "Projected earnings for the next quarter indicate a 25% increase. Helix Studios' popularity continues to grow exponentially, particularly in gaming forums and online communities."

Tyr smirked. "Yeah, I noticed. People are still speculating about who's behind Helix."

"Would you like to address the speculation?" Argos inquired.

"No," Tyr said quickly. "Let them wonder. Mystery keeps people interested. Besides, I'm not stepping into the spotlight until I'm legally an adult—and even then, only if it's absolutely necessary."

Argos hummed in acknowledgment. "Maintaining anonymity is indeed advantageous for security."

Tyr nodded, his mind already shifting gears. With the financial stability he now had, he could push forward with his next project—the one that would change the landscape of entertainment and possibly more.

Then he turned his attention to another monitor, this one displaying the blueprints for the NerveGear. He'd been toying with the concept for months, drawing inspiration from the other world's fictional(and baseless) technology.

But turning fiction into reality wasn't easy. He needed the device to be not only functional but also impossible to reverse-engineer. The last thing he wanted was for corporations—or worse, organizations like HYDRA or AIM—getting their hands on it.

"Argos," Tyr said, tapping the edge of the desk. "Begin generating material requirements and supplier lists for the NerveGear prototypes. I need the best suppliers, but they can't know what they're building."

"Understood," Argos replied. "Do you require additional countermeasures to prevent reverse engineering?"

"Definitely," Tyr said, pulling up another schematic. "Let's include multiple redundancies in the design. Self-destruction mechanisms, encrypted software, proprietary components—make it so convoluted that even the smartest people on Earth couldn't figure it out without me."

He smiled as he toguht what face would Tony Stark, Reeds Richard or Shuri make seeing this masterpiece.

Argos paused. "That level of complexity will increase production costs significantly."

Tyr shrugged. "Money's not an issue anymore. Just make it happen."

As Argos processed his request, Tyr leaned back and stared at the blueprints. "This is going to change everything," he muttered.

Later that week, Bloodborne officially launched, and the reception was as polarizing as Tyr had anticipated.

The grotesque, gothic aesthetic and brutal difficulty initially repelled casual gamers, many of whom voiced their disdain on social media.

"This is disgusting!" one reviewer wrote. "Why would anyone want to play something so horrifying?"

But as more players delved into the game, uncovering its intricate lore, challenging gameplay, and hauntingly beautiful world, the narrative began to shift.

"Bloodborne is a masterpiece," another review read. "It's not just a game—it's art."

Within days, Bloodborne had developed a dedicated following. Streamers and YouTubers began showcasing their experiences, and the game's popularity exploded.

Tyr watched it all unfold from his workshop, a satisfied smile tugging at his lips.

"People always underestimate the power of good design," he muttered.

"Helix Studios is trending," Argos informed him. "Analysts are calling the studio an enigma, and speculation about the identity of its CEO has reached new heights."

Tyr chuckled. "Let them guess. The mystery's good for business."

Amid the chaos of his projects, Tyr took a moment to reflect on his personal life. His decision to apply for early graduation had been met with little resistance—both Grandpa Finn and Oliver had seen it coming.

Finn, ever the supportive figure, had simply patted Tyr on the back and said, "Knew you were too smart to stick around with those kids for long. Just don't forget where you came from."

Oliver, on the other hand, had laughed and said, "So what's next? Are you gonna start teaching us all instead?"

Tyr smirked at the memory. As much as he respected the institution of education, staying in school felt redundant. He had already surpassed what most textbooks could offer, and his focus was on building something greater.

Even as Tyr celebrated his successes, a small part of him remained uneasy. The world was watching Helix Studios, and while most people saw it as a beacon of creativity, Tyr knew that power always attracted the wrong kind of attention.

"Argos," Tyr said, his tone serious. "Keep monitoring for any unusual activity—corporate, criminal, or otherwise. If anyone starts digging too deep into Helix, I want to know immediately."

"Affirmative," Argos replied. "Current scans show no immediate threats. However, I will remain vigilant."

"Good," Tyr said, leaning back in his chair. He glanced at the NerveGear schematics one last time before shutting off the monitor.

As he prepared to leave the workshop for the day, Tyr couldn't help but feel a sense of accomplishment. He had come a long way since his days at the orphanage, and while his path was far from easy, he was determined to see it through.

The world was changing, and Tyr Sinclair was at the center of it—even if no one knew it yet.