CHAPTER 286: CHAPTER 285: REST OF THE WORLD (2)

Some African rulers had gone public with their power... Morocco’s king, Lesotho’s monarch, the sultans of Zanzibar. Others moved in the shadows. Rex discovered that in Nigeria, behind the billion-dollar oil companies, sat the descendants of Hausa emirs and Yoruba kings. In Ethiopia, the bloodline of Haile Selassie had not disappeared; it had simply moved into diplomacy and international banking.

Colonialism had supposedly broken Africa’s rulers, but in reality, it had forced them to adapt. Many were educated in London or Paris, where they learned not just Western governance but how to maintain influence without needing official titles.

And those who resisted? Rex saw their names on old intelligence reports. They had been exiled. Assassinated. Or given ceremonial positions that kept them out of "real" politics.

The foreign military presence was impossible to ignore. French bases in the Sahel. U.S. command posts in Djibouti. Chinese-funded ports along the east coast. Every power wanted a piece, and many local rulers acted as gatekeepers, trading access for protection and wealth.

...

Australia’s history was sold as punishment: a dumping ground for British convicts. The truth was stranger.

Rex traced the shipping records and passenger logs. Yes, convicts came... but so did soldiers, surveyors, and "administrators" tied to British aristocracy. These were not random bureaucrats. They were younger sons of dukes and lords, men unlikely to inherit titles in England but perfect for running a distant colony.

Generations later, their descendants owned the vast cattle stations, the mining rights to iron and uranium deposits, and the media networks that shaped national opinion. Australia’s parliament rotated between parties, but the donors funding both sides came from the same old landowning clans.

Even its geographic isolation was a feature, not a flaw. During the Cold War, American and British intelligence had quietly built listening posts and joint bases here, with the cooperation of those same families. Officially, Australia was a free, democratic state. In reality, it was a fortress... one that guarded the Pacific on behalf of the global order.

...

From Australia’s sunburnt coasts, the threads fanned outward, scattering like sparks across the Pacific, leaping from isle to isle until the ocean itself seemed woven.

The islands of the Pacific seemed too small to matter, scattered dots in a vast ocean. Yet to Rex, they were the invisible pins holding a net together.

From Papua New Guinea to Fiji, old chieftain lines still ruled... sometimes openly, sometimes as "chief ministers" or "community elders" with unofficial power greater than any parliament. In Tonga, the monarchy still reigned. In Samoa, hereditary titles determined political eligibility.

What outsiders missed was how these small nations controlled vast Exclusive Economic Zones... stretches of ocean rich in fish, minerals, and potential shipping routes. Foreign powers understood this, which was why Australian, Chinese, and American ships regularly docked in their harbors. In exchange for aid, infrastructure, and "security agreements," these island nations quietly leased their seas.

Rex saw contracts signed in Suva and Port Moresby... 99-year leases on entire atolls, sold for prices that seemed absurdly low until you factored in the rare earth elements buried beneath. The chiefs who signed them lived quietly in seaside villas, their wealth hidden in trust funds in Singapore and Auckland.

---

The Web Beyond Borders.

The deeper Rex looked, the less the map resembled nations and the more it resembled a network... threads of bloodline, money, and obligation stretching across oceans.

The Americas outside the United States, Africa’s silent thrones, Australia’s inherited fortresses, and Oceania’s ocean kings... all were connected. A land reform in Brazil was funded by the same Swiss bank that handled Morocco’s royal accounts. A mining deal in Papua New Guinea shared shareholders with Canada’s energy barons.

Even wars and disasters seemed to follow patterns. A hurricane in the Caribbean led to rebuilding contracts for companies linked to old Spanish families in Mexico. A coup in West Africa installed a "transitional council" whose members had attended the same elite London boarding schools as Australian cabinet ministers.

It was not conspiracy in the Hollywood sense, no secret meetings in smoky rooms. It was simply... continuity.

The same hands that had once commanded ships and armies now signed trade agreements and investment deals. The crowns had turned into corporate logos. The palaces had turned into boardrooms. But the families, the instincts, the loyalties... they had never gone away.

...

Rex leaned back from the flood of data.

The map dimmed, and the colors bled together. Borders dissolved. Continents no longer stood apart,they overlapped, their histories stitched into the same cloth.

The deeper Rex looked, the less the map resembled nations and the more it resembled anatomy... a circulatory system of power. Europe’s crowned houses bled into Asia’s political dynasties, then spilled west into the Americas, south into Africa, east into Australia, and across the scattered islands of the Pacific. The same lifeblood flowed through every shore.

In Asia, emperors had traded robes for suits, sultans for prime ministers, khans for corporate patriarchs. Even revolutions that claimed to destroy the old order had merely replanted it under new banners. From Karachi to Kyoto, hereditary wealth hid behind the illusion of meritocracy. They did not just rule nations... they fed resources to Western corporations, allowed foreign bases on their soil, and acted as silent gatekeepers for global markets.

Across the Americas, outside the United States, Rex saw the same rhythm, monarchs turned into magnates, conquistadors into CEOs. In Africa, supposed republics still answered to ancient thrones. In Australia and Oceania, exile had been a strategic relocation, and island kings quietly leased their seas to the highest bidder.

The system’s voice was quiet but absolute.

"Crowns are not always worn on the head, Rex. Sometimes they are in the marrow. Across oceans and borders, these lineages adapted, merged, and cloaked themselves in whatever system the world demanded... feudal, colonial, democratic, socialist. The root never changed. The same hands that once commanded armies now sign trade agreements. The same families that owned kingdoms now own industries."

Rex closed his eyes for a moment, letting the last flickers of the map fade from his vision. The journey had crossed oceans, toppled borders, and peeled back the facades of nations, yet the pattern had stayed the same... unchanging, relentless.

When he opened them again, he no longer saw countries, only the quiet darkness. Yet the darkness didn’t feel empty... it felt crowded, alive, as if the threads he’d seen were still there, humming just beyond sight.

The world hadn’t gotten smaller. It had simply revealed its true shape, and now, he could never unsee it.

(End of Chapter)