Mara's biometric lock became a viral sensation—garment workers in Bangladesh used it to protect union chatrooms, truckers in Texas embedded it in their dispatch apps. But the victory was short-lived. The Citadel's legal team filed 27 international patents on "behavioral authentication systems," claiming Mara's code infringed their "emotional biometrics" IP.
"You're a freelancer," Harrison Gray smirked on CNBC. "We're a $50 billion company. Guess who the courts will believe?"
Mara's inbox flooded with death threats from "patriotic coders" paid to dox her. Jules' grandma's bingo app was hacked, her virtual cards replaced with ads for Citadel's "secure" retirement plans. But the union flyer from Dad's toolbox gave Mara an idea: she live-streamed a "keystroke union" tutorial, teaching users to encrypt their typing rhythms into a decentralized network.
"Every time you type 'secruity' or pause like Dad did," she said, "you're not just logging in—you're casting a vote."
The tutorial went viral, but The Citadel retaliated by buying out Mara's largest client, a healthcare startup using her tech to protect patient data. "You're fighting an army with a slingshot," Colette warned. "Join us. We'll make you rich."
Mara deleted the email and opened "Frank45293_V3," the code now littered with union chants: "One job, one strike, one keystroke at a time."