The morning sun crept gently across the skyline, casting golden threads through the tall windows of Lusteon Technologies. It should have been the beginning of a beautiful day for Elara Moore—but in truth, it was the beginning of the end.
Elara stood quietly in the elevator, clutching a tablet to her chest. Her black hair was tied neatly behind her head, her white blouse tucked into a navy skirt. She looked polished, polite, and intelligent. But beneath her composed exterior lived a quiet storm. She had spent years working for this moment, for her work to be seen, recognized, respected.
When the elevator doors slid open with a soft ding, she stepped out onto the twenty-sixth floor, where only key personnel had access. She'd been summoned to the executive boardroom—a place where decisions were made, fortunes were shaped, and dreams were either fueled or snuffed out.
As she approached, she passed Dahlia.
Dahlia.
Sharp heels. Sharp smile. Sharper heart.
She was everything Elara wasn't—rich, ruthless, and adored by the board. Elara had once believed she was a friend. But friendship in Lusteon was a business suit—worn only when convenient.
"Elara," Dahlia greeted with a sweet-but-sharp tone. "You're just in time. Lucien's waiting."
Elara nodded politely, offering a small smile that didn't touch her eyes. "I have the final specs ready."
Dahlia's eyes flicked over the tablet Elara held. "Of course, you do."
The boardroom was cold. Not in temperature, but in energy. Lucien Hale, the company's Chief Innovation Officer, sat at the head of the long glass table. His suit was charcoal grey, immaculate. His dark hair slicked back with precision. His presence commanded silence even before he spoke.
He didn't look up when she entered.
"Elara Moore," he said flatly. "You've been working on something you claim is revolutionary."
She hesitated, then stepped forward. "Yes. It's a real-time adaptive security chip. It doesn't just block digital threats—it evolves. It learns. If implemented correctly, it could be the future of tech security worldwide."
Lucien glanced toward Dahlia, who now stood behind him like a shadow.
Elara took a deep breath. "It's unlike anything on the market. I've included the encryption formula and test results. They're... undeniable."
Lucien's fingers tapped the table slowly. "Interesting."
But his expression said otherwise.
She had expected awe. Maybe a few questions. A hint of excitement.
Instead, she received blank faces.
Dismissive nods.
Cold silence.
Lucien finally looked at her.
"Thank you, Ms. Moore. You may go."
Her brows furrowed. "Sir, I think if you—"
"I said… you may go."
It was like being punched without force.
She turned, confused and crushed, and walked out without another word. Dahlia didn't follow her—but Elara didn't miss the sly curve of Dahlia's lips as the door closed behind her.
That was the first sign.
But Elara was too trusting. Too hopeful.
Too naïve.
---
Later that evening, Elara sat at her desk in the quiet lab on the twelfth floor, going over the code again. Her fingers moved automatically across the keys, but her mind replayed the cold rejection over and over.
Why had Lucien brushed her off? Why hadn't they asked questions? And why… did Dahlia smirk?
Her tablet buzzed.
Unknown Number: We need to talk. Meet me in the lab. Now.
Her heart skipped. She looked around. The building was quiet—only the night crew remained. Elara stood cautiously and made her way to the far lab. The lights were dim. She stepped inside.
"Hello?" she called softly.
No one answered.
She stepped further.
Then everything went black.
A blow to the back of her head knocked her unconscious. Her body crumpled to the ground like a forgotten memory.
---
The next morning, the city awoke to tragedy.
BREAKING: Gas Leak Triggers Explosion at Lusteon Tech's Lab — One Employee Presumed Dead
There were no remains. No witnesses.
Only assumptions.
Elara Moore was declared deceased.
---
But Elara wasn't dead.
She awoke in a strange, sterile room days later. The walls were white, and the air smelled of medicine and metal. Pain throbbed in her skull, but her mind burned even brighter—with rage, betrayal, and something new.
Clarity.
A woman stood beside her bed. Tall, dressed in clean white. Her face was gentle, but unreadable.
"You're safe now," the woman said. "You've been given a second chance."
Elara tried to sit up, but her body ached.
"I don't understand… where am I?"
"A private sanctuary. You were saved from the explosion before the fire spread. But no one knows you're alive. And you must keep it that way."
The woman handed her a folder.
"New identity. New path. If you want to return… you can. But you'll never be the same."
Elara slowly opened the folder.
Name: Elara Kwon. Status: Deceased. Purpose: Rebirth.
She stared at the papers.
Tears gathered—but they didn't fall.
The Elara who begged to be seen was gone.
The one reborn in this room?
She would never beg again.
She would return.
And when she did, no one—not Dahlia, not Lucien, not the company that crushed her—would escape what was coming.
---