The lobby was a cathedral of innovation—broad and open, with sunlight pouring in through a panoramic skylight. Bio-integrated sculptures floated in display pods above lush indoor gardens. A central kinetic installation—suspended silver rings—rotated silently on invisible tracks.
Employees in smart-textured clothing moved with purpose, their steps light, voices low, ID bands glowing faintly blue. Holoscreens blinked to life as they passed, displaying modular project data, real-time climate analytics, and research models Amy couldn't decipher at a glance.
Damon led her through a curved corridor, flanked by glass walkways and shimmering privacy filters. The deeper they went, the quieter it became—less like a tech firm and more like an arcology, alive with systems and softly humming machines.
"She always insisted the building be able to breathe," Damon said, half to himself. "No dead zones. Every corner usable. Even when it was just six people and a dream."
Amy blinked as they passed a memory wall—photos etched into clear material, backlit by soft gold. Old development teams. Tech expos. A young woman—her grandmother, Nyxara—in a long coat, smiling beside a device that looked like a shimmering prism.
Her throat tightened.
Damon paused, giving her a moment before continuing.
"No one fills her place," he said. "But some inherit her momentum."
Amy didn't answer.
He led her past a translucent security gate, deeper into a private wing marked with subdued security tones. The hallway narrowed here—sleek and minimal, with soundproofing in the walls and no displays at all.
Finally, Damon stopped before a tall obsidian-glass door.
"This is my office," he said simply. "There are documents you'll want to review. Some from the Board, and others left for you by Nyxara herself. We'll take this one step at a time."
He reached for the access panel.
Amy inhaled.
She wasn't ready.
But she nodded anyway.
The interior of Nymira Technologies had a pristine coldness to it—glass and marble and silence. Amy followed Damon Veiss through wide, sound-dampened corridors, absorbing little. Her mind was elsewhere.
He said little, respecting her silence. When they reached the executive floor, they turned left instead of right—not toward the boardroom where others were surely expecting her, but deeper into a private corridor. Damon keyed in an encrypted panel, unlocking a room where a black folio case rested on a sleek table under spotlight.
"These are the documents," he said simply. "From your grandmother's private vault. There are two categories—corporate holdings and personal assets."
Amy didn't even glance at the first pile. She slid it aside.
"I'm not here to run a company," she said, voice low. "I don't want a seat. I don't want a vote. I don't care what deals you're working on."
She opened the second set of folders — residential scriptures — and began to scan them quickly.
The Elarion Estate.
She already knew this one — where Sara's party had been. Yet something quite curled in her chest at seeing the name etched on the deed. Her name. Hers now.
The Abandoned Research Complex.
The Nymira building in Halveth. Still powered. Still secure. A future war zone in her mind. She tapped this one.
South Xendral District.
She froze. The street names. The block outlines. A dungeon-to-be. Her heart fluttered uneasily. She swallowed and closed the folder slowly, like sealing a secret.
"These three," she said, fingers tapping lightly on the covers, "I want to keep."
Then she looked up at Damon for the first time.
"The rest... I won't use them. Sell them all. Quietly. Whatever money comes from that, transfer it to me personally."
"I think my grandmother left them for that. So, I wouldn't need anything from anyone else."
He nodded. No questions.
"I'll handle it."
Amy stood, the meeting ending without fanfare. The sunlight burned outside the glass walls, but her mind stayed fixed in the shadows of forgotten halls and twisted futures.
As she exited the building, the black executive car was already waiting at the curb. She slid in without a word and leaned her head against the window. A few minutes later, she was back at her apartment. She didn't stay long.