The Iluminaughty

They were never searching for eternity.

Just a few more years at the top — no matter the cost… or who paid it.

Hidden behind philanthropic foundations, economic councils, and carefully staged obituaries, there exists an organization that never appears in official records.

They call themselves The Iluminaughty.

A secret society made up of billionaires, magnates, and titans of industry who, officially, are long dead. Unofficially, they are more alive — and more powerful — than ever.

For decades, the world’s greatest scientists, geneticists, and researchers have been discreetly funded to solve a single problem: how to extend power when the body begins to fail.

The answer was never elegant.
Nor comfortable.

After countless failed attempts — unstable cryogenics, cellular therapies that consumed both lives and fortunes — they finally found a solution… functional. Imperfect. Unquestionably controversial.

The artificial extension of the Y chromosome into X.

The result?
The mind remains intact, memories sharp, instincts of dominance fully preserved — but the body must be reset.

And so, men who spent entire lifetimes commanding empires awaken in young, feminine, strikingly beautiful bodies… and with biological drives far too vivid to ignore.

It isn’t quite the youth they imagined.
But it’s the only one available.

Adaptation, of course, comes at a price.

Libido intensifies. The senses sharpen. Control — that most precious asset — slips through their fingers far more easily than they’d like to admit.

Still, very few refuse.

After all, power is a habit far too old to be abandoned over something as trivial as modesty.

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That evening, beneath crystal chandeliers and calculated glances, a new specimen made her first public appearance.

A former oil magnate.
Officially deceased three years prior.
Reintroduced into society as a discreet young heiress, freshly arrived from Europe.

The dress was flawless. The smile, carefully trained.
But the gaze… ah, the gaze still carried decades of ruthless negotiations.

She crossed the ballroom as someone who had always belonged there, evaluating potential allies — or partners — with the same strategic coldness she once used in boardrooms.

An investor approached, confident.

“First time in our circle?”

She smiled, lifting her glass.

“Let’s just say I’m… resuming old business.”

He laughed, not quite understanding.
She did.

Because in the end, changing bodies was merely a logistical detail.

The game remained the same.
Only the rules had become… far more interesting.