The Lift Ride
The elevator hummed as it carried Kaelen Veyra toward the upper floors of TitanCorp Tower. Glass walls revealed the endless sprawl of Dominion below — glowing arteries of neon and steel threading the night.
Kaelen's reflection stared back at him: a crisp navy suit, dark hair slicked into place, jaw set with the determination of someone who had studied this moment for weeks. The TitanCorp board would be waiting. Dominion's largest energy consortium, led by the notorious Malrik Draeven, had more power than half of Parliament combined.
And Kaelen had what he believed was their future.
A micro-reactor design — sleek, efficient, capable of powering half a district at a fraction of the cost. If they listened, if they gave him a chance, everything could change. His family's name could rise again.
The lift chimed, opening to a marble lobby bathed in white light. Two assistants greeted him with polite indifference.
"Mr. Veyra," one said. "This way."
The Boardroom
The TitanCorp boardroom was a cathedral of glass and chrome. Screens stretched from floor to ceiling, displaying graphs and glowing schematics. The executives sat in a long line of leather chairs, their eyes sharp, calculating. At the head of the table was Malrik Draeven himself.
Malrik was larger than Kaelen remembered. Broad shoulders filled his tailored suit, a scar traced along his jaw, and his cold smile was a knife.
"Ah, young Veyra," Malrik said, his voice dripping with practiced charm. "The son of the man who thought himself untouchable. Let us hear your brilliance."
Kaelen placed his holo-slate on the table, activating the projection. Blue light bloomed into the air — a miniature reactor turning slowly in holographic detail.
"This design," Kaelen began, forcing calm into his voice, "is compact, sustainable, and more efficient than anything on the market. With TitanCorp's infrastructure, you could corner the energy sector for decades."
He tapped the display, expanding the specs, showing safety protocols, output ratios. He spoke with passion, every line rehearsed yet delivered as if fresh.
And for a moment, he saw interest flicker in their eyes. Executives leaned forward. One whispered to another.
Then Malrik chuckled.
"Impressive," Malrik said. "Did you design this?"
Kaelen lifted his chin. "I did."
The chuckle grew into a laugh. Malrik waved to one of his aides, who tapped their console.
Suddenly, another projection filled the room — identical to Kaelen's. Same design. Same specs. Same features.
But this one bore TitanCorp's insignia.
"We've had this design," Malrik said smoothly, "for six months. Curious coincidence, don't you think? Either you've been digging where you shouldn't, or you've wasted everyone's time."
Gasps rippled through the board. Executives now eyed Kaelen with suspicion, even disdain.
Kaelen's pulse thundered. "No — this is mine! I've worked on it for years. You're—"
But Malrik cut him off with a raised hand, the smile sharpening.
"Careful. Accusations against TitanCorp carry consequences. Shall I remind you how swiftly Parliament responds to patent fraud?"
Kaelen's throat closed. Around the room, he saw the shift: murmurs turning against him, glances filled with contempt. In seconds, he went from visionary to thief.
The Humiliation
Security guards stepped into the room.
Malrik rose, walking slowly to Kaelen, voice low enough only he could hear.
"Your father once thought himself greater than the board. He forgot the sun burns brightest at TitanCorp. And what happens to those who stand too tall in the light?"
Kaelen said nothing, but Malrik leaned closer, his breath hot at his ear.
"They cast a shadow. And shadows are forgotten."
Then, louder, to the board: "Escort this young man out. He has no place here."
The guards took Kaelen by the arms. The room blurred as they dragged him through the lobby, executives' smirks cutting deeper than knives.
By the time he reached the street outside, rain falling hard against Dominion's steel arteries, Kaelen felt hollow. His chest burned with humiliation, his hands shook with rage.
Above him, TitanCorp's tower loomed like a monolith, its glowing insignia staring down at him as if mocking his insignificance.
The Oracle's Whisper
His wrist-console buzzed. A message appeared, glitching in static before solidifying:
LAW I: Never Outshine the Master.
The mighty despise being eclipsed.
To rise, cloak your brilliance in humility.
Let others feel superior while you sharpen in silence.
A sun burns brightest when unseen — and only then does it endure.
Kaelen clenched his fist, rain dripping from his hair, words burning into his mind.
He had believed brilliance alone would carry him. But brilliance unshielded only made him a target.
Lifting his eyes to the tower one last time, Kaelen whispered:
"You cast me out, Malrik. But even shadows can learn to move unseen."