Everyone had gone to bed, hoping that tomorrow would be a better day. Santiago, Semiel, and Saval had finished their classes and gone straight to Saval's house, watching the impact of their latest move. In front of them, the computer screen displayed the audience's first reactions. It had been a long day, but also the first step toward a possible victory.
— The plan is working, Saval said, his tone carrying both satisfaction and caution. Even though the strategy was in motion, uncertainty still lingered in the air like an unwelcome shadow.
— It's more than I expected, Semiel responded, staring at the screen with a mix of disbelief and relief. The comments are changing. People are starting to question what Antonella said.
The video they had posted didn't attack Antonella directly. There were no explicit mentions of her name, no clear accusations. Instead, the group had shared testimonies from real people who had gone through similar experiences—emotional manipulation, harassment, psychological abuse. The stories were deep, personal, yet universal.
Santiago leaned back in his chair, rubbing his face, as if the weight of the situation had become both lighter and heavier at the same time.
— So far, so good, Santiago said, though he didn't seem entirely convinced.
Semiel scrolled through the flood of social media comments, ranging from Antonella's staunch defenders to those who were beginning to have doubts. What surprised them the most was the shift in the conversation's tone. It was no longer a battle over whether Santiago was guilty or not. It had become a fight for Antonella's credibility.
— The best part is that we're not attacking her directly. We're just showing what's really at stake here, Saval pointed out, eyes fixed on the numbers that continued to climb.
David had been the mastermind behind the plan, the one who had shown them how to move the pieces indirectly, how to make people question the validity of Antonella's claims without dirtying their own hands. The "narrative displacement" was taking effect, and people were beginning to see the cracks in the story Antonella had built.
— It's working, Saval repeated, a small but hopeful smile forming on his lips.
But that hope didn't last long. As they kept watching the online reactions, something unexpected began to happen. The initial voices doubting Antonella multiplied. But at the same time, there were also those who doubled down on their support, clinging even more fiercely to her version of the events, convinced that she was the true victim in all of this.
Santiago sighed and stood up from his chair. He walked over to the window, staring out at the horizon, deep in thought.
— This is just the beginning, he murmured, almost to himself. This wouldn't be resolved so quickly. The psychological war had only just begun.
Semiel let out a sigh, but unlike Santiago, he seemed more at ease.
— It's clear that things are shifting. People are starting to question Antonella. They're looking for the flaws in her story.
And then, as if everything had finally clicked into place, Saval said it.
— Doubt is what we need. If people start doubting Antonella, the rest will collapse under its own weight.
The strategy was working better than they had expected. Antonella was no longer an untouchable figure. The contradictions in her statements, the small details that had gone unnoticed before, were now being scrutinized. The discussion was becoming increasingly divided. People were starting to ask themselves whether Antonella had been honest all along.
Santiago took a deep breath, but his expression remained skeptical.
— But how long will this last? he asked, a wry smile on his face. What if she fights back? What if she comes at us with something even bigger?
Semiel raised an eyebrow, watching the reactions that continued to grow.
— The truth is, we can't control what Antonella will do. But what we can do is keep the pressure on. The more questions we plant, the harder it'll be for her to keep her narrative intact. And most importantly, we need to keep showing that we won't just be pawns in her game anymore.
Suddenly, Saval raised his hand, pointing at a comment. It was a post from a student who had noticed inconsistencies in Antonella's story, referencing something she had said in a previous post that didn't match what she was claiming now.
—Look at this, guys —Saval said with a smile—. This is a great example. People are already starting to notice the contradictions. We can do this—we just have to stick together.
—You're right, Saval. I finally see the light at the end of the tunnel, but we have to be careful —Semiel replied, urging caution, though he couldn't help but smile as he spoke.
Yes, this is you, Saval. That confidence, that smile—that's who you are. I'll stand by your side forever.
Unaware of Semiel's thoughts, Santiago had relaxed a little, but the anxiety still lingered. He knew this wasn't over. Antonella had resources. She had power. And the last thing he wanted was to underestimate her.
Meanwhile, somewhere else in the city, Antonella watched the situation unfold on her phone, seated at her desk. Her expression was unreadable, but her eyes betrayed her concern. Every comment, every new post circulating on social media seemed to shake her just a little more.
I can't let this fall apart.
She had spent too much time building her image, too much effort crafting how others perceived her. She wasn't going to let a small group of people, a handful of vague testimonies, and a distorted narrative bring her down so easily.
These toys think they're something special. But they need to understand—they're just pieces on the board.
A soft chime from her phone pulled her attention to the screen. The name on the notification made her smile—cold, calculated.
It was him.
Without hesitation, she tapped the call button. As the phone rang, Antonella paced slowly across her office, gazing out at the city through the window. The counterattack had to be immediate. The plan couldn't fail.
I didn't want to use this card so soon, but it's better to end this now.