Amy paused at the sliding door, fingers hovering just inches from the biometric pad. The scanner blinked to life the moment she exhaled near it.
{Voiceprint confirmed. Welcome, Ametrine Ashryn.}
A hiss of pressurized air and the door slid open, revealing the studio.
The room was a symphony of contrast. Sunlight traced the smooth arcs of glass partitions, bouncing off brass fixtures and polished screens. Tall bookshelves lined the wall to her left, stocked with technical manuals and sketchbooks with curling paper edges. To her right, clean metal workbenches were cluttered with disassembled drone parts, chrome instruments, and blueprint scrolls in protective casings. The center of the room was anchored by a monolithic desk — one side antique wood, the other a seamless pane of illuminated glass.
It felt untouched by time. And yet lived in.
She stepped inside slowly. The door whispered closed behind her.
Her eyes swept the room, then landed on the terminal — a standing holographic panel built into the far corner of the desk. Curiosity flared hot in her chest. She didn't expect to find anything useful here. Just a vague pull, a half-memory from the future: this place had mattered.
She activated the terminal.
{Accessing: Nyxara Elaris // Archive Node — Personal + Corporate.}
The name sent a jolt through her. Not just "Nyxara." But Elaris. Her last name. Grandma's name.
Amy leaned closer as the holo-display unfolded like glass petals blooming in air, each pane cascading information — development logs, research folders, architectural plans, financial portfolios.
Then:
{FILE ACCESS: NYMIRA_SEC//ELARIS-BLOODLINE.ROOT
VOICE ID VERIFIED: Ashryn-Ametrine
Clearance Granted. Welcome back.
"Legacy is not what you leave behind. It is what waits in the dark until someone is ready to claim it."
– Nyxara Elaris, Founder of Nymira Technologies
🔸 Nymira Technologies: Founder's Index
Founder: Nyxara ElarisPrimary Field: Advanced Systems IntegrationFoundation Year: 2030 (Elysian Central Charter)Ownership Structure: Sealed Inheritance (Elaris Bloodline Only)Status: ACTIVE | Autonomous Asset Custody Mode
🔸 Note Left for Amy:
"You were never meant to follow.
You were meant to rebuild.
Every tool I designed… every secret I buried… was always meant for you.
The world may not be ready — but you are.
Welcome home."}
She blinked. Once. Twice.
"…What?"
Nymira?
She scrolled back up, then down. It was no mistake. Her grandmother wasn't just an engineer. She built Nymira. From nothing. The same Nymira whose name she'd seen etched on every piece of cutting-edge tech in the world — high-efficiency reactors, neural-linked AR devices, crystalline power cores. The Velvet was one of their older models. The Midnight Linx… still under wraps, technically.
And all of it, Nyxara's.
"Why didn't she ever tell me…?"
But the question fell flat. Her grandma had always been distant about her past. Kind, affectionate in her own way — but guarded. Like she knew telling Amy too much might pull her into something heavier than just science.
And maybe… she was right.
Amy scrolled again. There was a sealed folder titled 'Elaris Lineage' locked behind a multi-auth key. She didn't try to open it. Not yet.
She closed the window with trembling fingers.
One step closer. But still walking blind.
Then she turned, eyes sweeping the studio again. Amy's brows furrowed.
She opened the drawer on the right side of the desk. Inside was a stack of memos, a weathered notebook in Nyxara's neat script… and a sleek black business card. The Nymira Technologies insignia was embossed on one side. On the back, a direct access number. No title. No name.
Just the initials: NE.
Before she could overthink it, something tugged at her curiosity — the lingering sense of presence. Her grandmother was everywhere in this house… and yet Amy barely knew her.
Maybe the library would help.
Back upstairs, the house opened like a memory palace — the quiet chime of polished floors under her steps, the faint scent of jasmine laced into the wood, and the distant hush of running water from the garden atrium. She passed the shrine room without entering. Her hand brushed the doorframe in quiet respect.
But her feet took her, inevitably, to the library.