At the same time, The Dark Knight crossing the 1.5 billion mark reignited the global craze for superhero movies. Many film companies that had long been eyeing the genre now scrambled to find a way in.
Unfortunately for them, America's most famous superheroes were controlled by just two entities—Warner Bros.' DC and Marvel, which had been acquired by Laila. The few superhero rights that had been previously sold off to external studios had gradually been reclaimed by Laila in recent years.
From Iron Man onward, Dragon Soul Studios had been steadily laying the groundwork for their grand Marvel Cinematic Universe. Sequels to Iron Man, The Incredible Hulk, Captain America, and others all moved in a shared direction. According to Laila's plan, once everything was in place, the Avengers would assemble.
In a market where one blockbuster after another was flopping, superhero films had shown astonishing box office power. Naturally, this left the other studios green with envy.
But Laila understood one thing clearly—no one could earn all the money in the world alone. Marvel had far too many heroes, and even with the combined efforts of her company's directors, they couldn't possibly film them all in one lifetime, let alone the sequels.
So she boldly proposed a collaborative production model: she would allow other studios to co-produce films featuring certain Marvel heroes.
She'd offer the rights to select characters, contribute funding if necessary, provide access to her talent agency's roster of actors, and—most importantly—offer the services of the most powerful VFX studio in Hollywood, which was under her control.
Joint development was infinitely better than sitting on unused assets. And since the rights remained firmly in her hands, it was essentially using cooperation to generate more profit.
However, she had conditions. First, the integrity of the Marvel universe had to be maintained. Second, any character featured in the Avengers films was strictly off-limits for collaboration.
Those were her crown jewels. Her company would handle them with the utmost care—and milk them for all they were worth.
Once the news broke, even knowing they'd only get B- or C-list heroes, many film companies still rushed forward seeking partnerships. After all, people shouldn't forget—Iron Man himself had once been considered second-tier, yet under Laila's direction, he exploded into a phenomenon.
Need proof of Iron Man's popularity? Just look at Robert Downey Jr.—from a fallen star to one of Hollywood's highest-paid actors. That was the power of a superhero film done right.
So when Dragon Soul Studios announced their collaboration plan, studios came knocking not just because they believed in the superhero genre, but because they believed in Laila's vision.
Look at Dragon Soul's annual schedule: every summer blockbuster season featured at least one superhero film, and every one of them performed spectacularly at the box office.
How sharp was Laila's eye for projects? Just look at the scripts she chose. The fact that she was all-in on superheroes showed just how much she believed in the genre's future.
What these studios didn't yet know was that Laila wasn't stopping at the big screen. She was already preparing TV adaptations of superhero properties.
In her past life, series like Arrow, The Flash, and Gotham had all enjoyed solid ratings. With superheroes enjoying massive popularity now, why wouldn't she seize this lucrative opportunity?
Laila didn't bother personally handling negotiations with these studios. As long as they weren't asking for rights to any of the major heroes she deemed essential, her team could go ahead and make the deals.
What she didn't expect was for someone truly unexpected to come knocking—James Cameron, the very director she considered her greatest rival.
But he wasn't here to ask for superhero rights. What he wanted… was her VFX studio.
With ample funding and a generous boss, the programmers and artists working under Laila had been thriving. Their skills had rapidly improved, and the company had long since claimed the title of Hollywood's top VFX house—unshakably so.
VFX studios were notoriously expensive to maintain. Not just any company could afford one. But their boss was Laila, worth hundreds of billions. She could support them with the flick of a finger, funding cutting-edge equipment and anything else they needed.
In addition to handling in-house projects, her studio also accepted external commissions. Over time, many smaller VFX companies faded from the radar. After all, there was a world of difference between cheap, half-baked effects and multi-million-dollar sequences. It was only natural that others would be jealous.
As the company grew, manpower shortages became an issue. But its reputation, welfare, and technical prowess drew in top talent from all directions. Before Laila even realized it, her studio had quietly risen to the top of the industry—a dream partner for everyone else.
And now, Cameron was here with a request: he wanted Laila's VFX company to help him with Avatar.
"You've probably heard," he said. "The biggest selling point of my film is its visual effects. I want to deliver a perfect experience for the audience. But from what I hear, your company now has the best technology. I want to work with you."
When Cameron first began prepping Avatar, Laila's VFX company hadn't even been founded. Naturally, he had hired the top VFX studio available at the time. But years had passed, and the title of "best" had since changed hands. The most advanced tools were no longer with the studio he'd hired, and that irritated Cameron—a man who demanded nothing less than perfection.
"I remember Avatar is scheduled to release at the end of next year," Laila said curiously. "You're saying the visual effects aren't done yet?"
"They're almost done," Cameron replied, utterly self-assured. "But I think they could still be better. If people are saying the best tech is in your hands, then of course I'm coming to you."
Laila laughed. "I'm sure the folks in my studio will be thrilled to hear that coming from you. But the timeline is too tight. Even if we take on the project, there's no way we could redo all the effects from scratch. More importantly, do you know how much that would cost? I doubt your investors would approve."
The film had already cost over $200 million, with more than half of that going to visual effects. If they scrapped everything already done and redid it using her studio's latest tech, not only would the timeline be impossible, the budget would balloon by another hundred million or more. Cameron's investors might respect his pursuit of perfection, but burning through that kind of money—and potentially delaying the release—would definitely cause backlash.