The first light of dawn had barely broken over the skyline of Metropore City, but already, the streets surrounding AD Tech's massive headquarters were choked with traffic. Vehicles idled bumper to bumper—architects, consultants, media vans, and investors all converging on the same address with one goal: to witness the most anticipated infrastructure presentation of the year.
The AD Tech Tower, usually sleek and stoic, now buzzed like a hive. Security teams barked instructions over walkie-talkies. Media tents sprang up near the gates. A dozen project teams nervously paced the lobby. And upstairs, behind the scenes, it was a full-blown scramble.
Inside the tech rooms, sleepless staff moved like ghosts through corridors, checking every cable, calibrating every monitor. In one of the presentation rooms, a bleary-eyed intern crawled under a conference table, holding a LAN tester in one hand and a power cable in the other.
Guna, youngest intern and IT floater, muttered curses under his breath as he tightened a final jack.
"Why am I doing this?" he groaned, rubbing his neck.
"I'm a software guy, not a glorified network monkey. Mama, I hope you remember my sacrifice as soft developer gave up my pride for your company and doing basic IT work for the presentation day."
He winced at the memory of the last 48 hours—no sleep, ten system reboots, and a near-death caffeine overdose.
A senior tech passing behind him raised an eyebrow.
"You say something, intern?"
"Nope. Just talking to the cables."
Guna had been under strict instructions from his brother-in-law—Athavan himself—to keep a low profile. Few even knew who he was. Athavan had advised that only top AD Tech leadership would be aware of their connection.
And Guna, though exhausted, couldn't help but replay the conversation they had in the car days ago:
"Stay hidden," Athavan had said, reclining in the passenger seat while Guna drove.
"Start from the bottom. Don't let privilege rob you of growth. You've already had the honor of learning from Vishwakarma my-self."
Guna shot him a look.
"Mama, I understand you a great—but calling yourself Vishwakarma is a little dramatic, don't you think?"
Athavan had just laughed.
"Your sister is the best. When i told her the first time, she believes me. Why is hard for you believe it? Well when you'll learn in the future don't tell me i never tell you, ok!."
"Look," he continued, "opportunity means nothing if you're not prepared.
That's what luck really is—preparation meeting opportunity.
Learn everything here. Grab all the opportunity to show case your ability all the way to the top. If you are capable enough, one day, i might leave this company on your hand. I have so much to handle"
Guna had rolled his eyes—but today, as he stared at a room full of blinking routers and flickering projectors, part of him finally got it.
"Intern!" A gruff voice broke through his thoughts.
Adam, his relentless supervisor, appeared in the doorway, holding a tablet and looking thoroughly irritated.
"Finish double-checking Room 7's display input. Standby upstairs for support after that—we need stay alert for later today in case of emergency."
"Didn't the day-shift crew take over support duty?" Guna mumbled, eyes half-shut.
"What?"
"Nothing, sir!"
He stumbled toward the restroom, his reflection in the mirror barely recognizable. Bloodshot eyes. Ruffled hair. Hoodie hanging off one shoulder. But even through the haze—he felt a twinge of pride. He was here.
Meanwhile, the underground parking lot had become its own kind of battlefield.
Dhiviya's team—architects, researchers, and junior project leads—finally pulled into a tight parking spot after nearly two hours of traffic gridlock. Inside the car, tension was high but spirits were higher.
Sanjana clutched her coffee thermos.
"Thank god we're still an hour early for registration."
Shankar popped his hatchback open, pulling out two grocery bags packed with cream buns and instant coffee packs.
"Quick breakfast here. No way we're getting into the café. It's already chaos upstairs."
The team passed around buns and drinks, leaning against the car doors for a quick moment of peace.
Until—
Another luxury sedan pulled into the next bay.
And out stepped Sally Brown.
Same sharp stilettos. Same poisonous smile. Flanked by her polished entourage.
Dhiviya's former university rival.
The one who always played dirty—and played for keeps.
Now leading James Architectural Design's pitch team.
Her heels clicked like drumrolls of sarcasm.
"Well, well, well. Look who's crawling out of Blue Valley's ashes."
Dhiviya didn't flinch. The team didn't engage.
But Sally? She kept talking.
"Oh yes, I heard! The ex-employees of Blue Valley launched a little startup.
You folks submitted for tenders, right? Shortlisted too? Wow."
"Must've submitted a killer public toilet design. I hope you get all the lavatory contracts!"
Her entire team broke into laughter.
Arjun clenched his jaw, ready to retaliate, but Dhiviya gently raised a hand.
Instead, she smiled.
"Wow. I didn't know we were so popular you've been tracking our every move."
She turned to her team.
"Guys, you know why people follow your work in silence?"
Punitha smiled, cueing the act.
"Why?"
"Because we're a threat. Or worse—we're what they secretly wish they were."
"They keep watching our every move. Even our toilet projects.
Sounds like obsession to me."
Then came the final blow.
"And do you know why we don't track them?"
Punitha tilted her head.
"Why?"
"Because we're too busy building. Winning.
We don't fear competitors. We fear missed potential.
Even a public toilet deserves elegance—and no one delivers elegance like our team does."
Sally's smile flickered.
Dhiviya turned to walk away.
"Come on. I need to drop off breakfast . My brother's been working overnight at AD Tech."
"My husband asked me to deliver it personally for his hard-work."
That hit.
Sally stood frozen as Dhiviya disappeared into the lobby.
Then she snapped out of it.
She has a brother working at AD Tech?
Her heart skipped.
This wasn't good.
She motioned briskly to her team.
"Move. Now. I want eyes on who she meets. Before presentations begin."
But as she strode toward the lobby, an older fear clawed its way to the surface—one she had buried under forced confidence earlier.
She hadn't forgotten.
Three years ago, when Dhiviya joined Blue Valley straight out of university, everyone underestimated her. Quiet. Polite. Not flashy.
Until she started winning.
One pitch after another.
Over the course of three years, she had led Blue Valley's design team to secure six major contracts—four of which had been stolen directly from Sally's own family firm. It wasn't just that Dhiviya presented well. It was the way she worked under pressure, the impossible deadlines she met, the precise brilliance of her architectural vision. She could balance aesthetics, cost-efficiency, and futureproofing like she had done it in a past life.
And now here she was again.
Different badge. Different banner. But same fire in her eyes.
And possibly backed by a direct contact into AD Tech's very core team.
Sally's father, owner of James Architectural Design, had spent the last few weeks meticulously paving the way for this bid—pulling in favors, securing early access to the evaluation rubric, greasing a few palms for the scoring matrix.
But none of that mattered if Dhiviya was in the room.
If her talent alone didn't sink them, her connections just might.
Damn it, I thought Blue Valley's fall was the end of her.
Yet here she was again.
Smiling. Calm. Unshaken by mockery.
Delivering breakfast to the brother who possibly had connection with AD Tech's core team.
Sally wasn't just walking into a presentation now.
She was walking into a silent war.
And deep down… she knew the truth.
Dhiviya wasn't a competitor.
She was a reckoning.