Welcome to 999986666 Contracting LTD
Project management, expert craftsmanship, and artistic precision—built into every job at 999986666 Contracting.
Contact Us with your vision Today
Hours
Open today | 08:00 a.m. – 06:00 p.m. |
Closed all Major Holidays
Eyes of Resilience – A Tribute to Strength and Survival
AUCTION!
Accompanying the Eyes of Resilience artwork and NFT is a poem that speaks to the hidden battles, the silent burdens, and the unbreakable spirit of those who rise from darkness. This piece embodies the very essence of fortitude, transformation, and hope—a reminder that even in chaos, there is power.
This one-of-a-kind 48" x 36" print is up for auction at ATB in Brentwood, and the NFT is available for sale online. All proceeds will go to the Mustard Seed Women’s Shelter, directly supporting women in need and giving them the resources they need to rebuild their lives.
📅 Auction & Sale Dates: April 1 – April 30
📍 Location for Print Auction: ATB Financial, 3630 Brentwood Rd NW, Calgary, AB T2L 2C1
About The Revenant Equation
99.99.8.66.66
The Revenant Philosophy: A System for Fair Pricing and Sustainable Work
For centuries, labor has been undervalued. The skilled have been overworked. The honest have been underpaid. And homeowners—searching for quality—have been left navigating a market full of underbidding, overcharging, and uncertainty.
That ends with The Revenant Equation.
This system was created to prevent people from being worked to death without fair compensation while also giving homeowners a transparent pricing guide to ensure they aren’t taken advantage of.
At its core, the Revenant Philosophy is built on balance—a system where both the worker and the client receive exactly what’s fair.
🔹 For Entrepreneurs & Tradespeople:
You will no longer underprice yourself just to win a bid. You will no longer push your body to its breaking point for a fraction of what your work is worth. Instead, you will learn how to calculate your value accurately, ensuring sustainability, growth, and long-term success.
🔹 For Homeowners:
You will no longer have to wonder if you are overpaying—or if a deal that seems too good to be true is actually cutting corners behind the scenes. The Revenant Equation gives you a clear, structured pricing system, ensuring that what you pay is what the work is truly worth. No more guesswork. No more hidden fees. Just honest pricing that protects your investment.
This philosophy isn’t about survival. It’s about thriving.
It’s about breaking the cycle of burnout, exploitation, and financial imbalance that has plagued both laborers and clients for too long. Whether you're the one doing the work or the one paying for it, The Revenant Equation ensures that no one loses.
- The system is already in place. The only question is—are you ready to use it?
The Equation
I am the sum of what was left behind,
the balance struck between ruin and rebirth,
a revenant not of death, but of motion,
etched into the gears of industry’s ghost.
Ninety-nine, ninety-nine—A pattern near completion,
four nines standing sentinel at the gate,
each a pillar of work, measured, precise,
a week forged in fire, in steel, in sweat.
Nine hours, nine hours, nine again—
until the eighth, the breaking point,
where the hammer slows, the weight shifts,
and the number folds into something more.
Eight, sixty-six, sixty-six—A recursion, a spiral,
a symmetry hidden in the ledger’s script,
each digit a cog in the unrelenting machine,
the ouroboros feeding its own fire.
Sixty-six stacked like vertebrae in a spine,
supporting the weight of what I build,
turning, turning, always returning—
not to the past, but to the work,
to the pulse of creation, to the hum of intent.
Sixty-six, sixty-six for forty—foundation and framework,
Ninety-nine, ninety-nine for four—finality and finesse,
time distilled into a perfect average,
Sixty-nine, sixty-nine—the number laughs, knowing its own symmetry,
knowing the poetry hidden in its mechanics,
knowing that chaos is only unmeasured order.
I am the architect of that equation,
not bound by ink on paper,
but by the rhythm of my own hands,
by the balance struck between toil and craft,
between the weight of the forge
and the lightness of what I leave behind.
I have walked through the ruins of men’s ambitions,
where numbers are cold, lifeless things,
where work is a weight that breaks the spine.
But in my hands, the numbers breathe,
they turn like gears, sing like wind through steel,
they measure not labor, but legacy.
Ninety-nine, ninety-nine—The near-ending, the threshold.
Eight, sixty-six, sixty-six—The turning, the unbroken cycle.
Together, they shape the revenant’s path,
not a ghost, not a machine,
but something in between, something infinite.
I do not carve in marble, nor write in ink—
I etch my mark in time itself.
And when all is dust,
when the wheels of the world rust silent,
the equation will remain.
Ninety-nine, ninety-nine, eight, sixty-six, sixty-six—The revenant’s mark.
Neither the end nor the beginning,
but the perfect balance of the work,
the weight,
the will.
99.99.8.66.66
999986666 Artwork
The Jack of Spades
The Queen of Hearts
The Queen of Hearts
Beneath the cut where silence trades,
He plies the edge of steel and grades.
No hourly wage, no boss to bind—
He bills the earth and leaves no time.
Nine-nine, ninety-nine,
A whisper wrapped in crooked line.
Not crown, nor cuff, nor deal unmade—
He names his price with fuel and blade.
Six-six, sixty-six,
Where numbers roll and ledgers fix.
Beneath the cut where silence trades,
He plies the edge of steel and grades.
No hourly wage, no boss to bind—
He bills the earth and leaves no time.
Nine-nine, ninety-nine,
A whisper wrapped in crooked line.
Not crown, nor cuff, nor deal unmade—
He names his price with fuel and blade.
Six-six, sixty-six,
Where numbers roll and ledgers fix.
The hours long, the take is wide—
He digs the depth they’d try to hide.
The contract bends, the margin sways,
Yet through the dust, he carves his pay.
Not just a Jack, not just a trade—
The Jack of Spades.
The game he played.
99.99.8.66.66
The revenant equation
The Queen of Hearts
The Queen of Hearts
The Queen of Hearts
She doesn’t wear white.
She never did.
Too many stains in this work.
Too many ghosts in the waiting room.
They don’t see her crown,
just the clipboard,
the coffee,
the calm voice that doesn’t flinch
when they say the darkest thing they’ve ever done.
She’s not royalty.
She’s a fortress.
She took the hits,
bled on the ledger,
cried in the st
She doesn’t wear white.
She never did.
Too many stains in this work.
Too many ghosts in the waiting room.
They don’t see her crown,
just the clipboard,
the coffee,
the calm voice that doesn’t flinch
when they say the darkest thing they’ve ever done.
She’s not royalty.
She’s a fortress.
She took the hits,
bled on the ledger,
cried in the stairwell,
then showed up again Monday
like it was just part of the job.
Sixty-six sixty-six for Thirty—
not because of pride,
but because healing costs something.
And she’s not ashamed to name the number.
She knows her worth,
and she’s tired of acting like
care should come free
from the ones already carrying too much.
This is her empire—
a demolition company for pain.
No hard hats, just harder truths.
No wrecking balls, just words
placed in the right spot
until something buried finally collapses.
They call her the Queen of Hearts.
Not because she’s gentle—
because she’s got the guts to face
what most people run from.
She’s not here to save anyone.
She’s here to walk with them
until they remember how to save themselves.
99.99.8.66.66
The revenant equation
The Jack of Clubs
The Queen of Hearts
The Jack of Clubs
He wakes before the skyline breaks,
With steel in hand and dust to taste,
A revenant among the wreck and roar,
The ghost of buildings that stand no more.
Ten hours deep in fractured stone,
Tearing down what time has grown,
Each brick a burden, each floor a fight,
His shadow tangled in morning light.
They count his worth in daily loads,
But miss t
He wakes before the skyline breaks,
With steel in hand and dust to taste,
A revenant among the wreck and roar,
The ghost of buildings that stand no more.
Ten hours deep in fractured stone,
Tearing down what time has grown,
Each brick a burden, each floor a fight,
His shadow tangled in morning light.
They count his worth in daily loads,
But miss the sum in mirrored codes:
Five days cast in double sixes,
The sixth one crowned in nines and fixes.
And when the dusk devours the sun,
He’s earned what most would never run.
Not built of crowns or polished glass,
But torque and grit and shattered past,
His armor forged in breaks and bruises,
He trades his bones for corporate uses.
The world may cheer as towers fall,
Yet never see the price of it all.
He’s not a name in suits or charts,
Just callused hands and broken parts.
Still, he smiles in the aftermath,
A king of ruins, cleared a path.
And though his ledger won’t reflect,
The Jack of Clubs commands respect.
99.99.8.66.66
The revenant equation
ART from 999986666 and NFT Gallery
