The first time Arjun used the system against someone who trusted him, he did not recognize it as betrayal.
It arrived disguised as advice.
A junior manager named Kunal asked for his opinion after a late meeting. Kunal was competent, earnest, and tired in the way people get when they still believe effort will protect them.
"I think I might have pushed too hard," Kunal said. "I flagged a compliance gap. Nothing illegal, but it makes leadership uncomfortable."
Arjun listened without interrupting. He had learned that silence made people reveal the shape of their fear.
"I do not want to be seen as difficult," Kunal added. "But I also do not want to pretend it does not exist."
Arjun nodded slowly.
"What outcome do you want?" he asked.
Kunal hesitated. "I want it fixed."
Arjun chose his words carefully. Not to deceive, but to direct.
"Then you need to survive long enough to see it fixed," he said. "Right now, the way you are framing it makes you the problem, not the issue."
Kunal frowned. "So I should drop it?"
"No," Arjun replied. "You should slow it down. Reframe it as a risk that is already being managed. Ask for alignment, not correction."
"That feels dishonest," Kunal said.
Arjun met his eyes. "It is strategic."
Kunal sat with that for a moment, then nodded. "Okay. That makes sense."
Two weeks later, the compliance gap disappeared from discussion entirely. Not resolved. Absorbed. Kunal was praised for his maturity and adaptability.
He thanked Arjun for the guidance.
That was when Arjun understood what he had actually done.
He had not protected Kunal.
He had trained him.
At home that night, Shreya watched him closely.
"You gave someone advice today," she said.
"Yes," Arjun replied.
"Did it help them?" she asked.
He thought about it. "It helped them remain acceptable."
"That is not the same thing," she said.
"I know," Arjun replied.
The next day, Raghav called him.
Not a meeting. Just a call.
"You are settling in," Raghav said. "People trust you."
"Trust is incidental," Arjun replied. "Predictability is what matters."
Raghav laughed softly. "You are learning faster than most."
That sentence should have unsettled him.
It did not.
Later that week, Arjun noticed that people were coming to him before raising concerns elsewhere. Not because he had authority, but because he had become a filter.
He adjusted tone. He softened language. He redirected timing.
Issues did not disappear.
They arrived already defanged.
The system did not need to intervene as often anymore.
It had him.
That night, Arjun opened the notebook and wrote a single line.
Villains are not created by cruelty. They are created by usefulness.
He closed it and felt no urge to add more.
Because the truth no longer needed articulation.
It was already operational.
Arjun was no longer reacting to the architecture.
He was becoming one of its load bearing elements.
And the most dangerous part was this.
He was still telling himself he was preventing worse outcomes.
He still believed that.
Which meant he was no longer asking the only question that mattered.
Who decided what worse meant in the first place.