The world keeps turning… but something is beginning to move beneath the surface.
Lucien sat beside a 24th-floor window, watching the sun cast golden reflections across the buildings. The city seemed indifferent—but he wasn't. He knew that every small decision he had made in recent days had pushed him toward something larger.
Not toward fame.
Not toward instant power.
But toward real control.
He opened his laptop. Three new assignments awaited him. One of them came from the same partner who had offered him the monthly contract. He no longer had to pitch his services—people were seeking him out.
He smiled, subtly.
And began working.
That afternoon, Lucien took a break and went down to the lobby. He ordered a black coffee, no sugar, and sat at a table in the back. As he sipped, he reopened the startup database he still had access to—for a few more hours.
Hiventek already showed progress. They had released a functional prototype on GitHub. The feedback was good. One comment read:
"Whoever translated this nailed it. It sounds better than the original English."
Lucien looked down, not out of modesty, but out of strategy.
Credit wasn't useful yet.
Not until the leverage was his.
Just then, he received a direct message.
Not from the system.
From Ingrid.
"I'm in a meeting with a VC friend. He just mentioned a small startup with potential. Said their proposal was sharp and the pitch felt like someone truly understood technical English. Was that you?"
Lucien replied with one word:
"Maybe."
"I want to talk when you're done today. I've got a proposal."
Lucien put the phone away. He didn't answer right away.
Ingrid was smart. Ambitious.
And most importantly: she knew when to move.
The problem was, someone else was moving too.
That night, while walking home, something odd happened.
A teenager—maybe seventeen or eighteen—stood in front of a vending machine. He looked frustrated. He punched the glass lightly, muttering something under his breath.
Lucien was about to walk past, but then he heard it:
—"Stupid record system bullshit…"
Lucien turned his head slowly.
The kid didn't notice him. He bent down to grab the drink that had finally dropped.
But he'd said it.
He'd used the exact same words Lucien had seen on that black screen that first night.
Lucien paused. Observed him carefully.
Another user?
Was this real… or just a coincidence?
What if the system wasn't exclusive?
The boy left without ever noticing Lucien's gaze.
Lucien stood on the sidewalk, red traffic light blinking across his face.
Exclusivity was gone.
Now there was competition.
Back in his apartment, Lucien didn't write a new record.
He simply checked documents, replied to emails, and reviewed the contract proposal from an Argentinian fintech looking for help with international presentations.
No signals from the system.
No messages.
Just work.
Human. Constant. Silent.
At midnight, his phone rang. Private number.
—Voss?
He recognized the voice. Ingrid.
—I'm here —he said.
—Can you come by tomorrow at seven? I've got temporary access to an office in the Atria Building. I want to show you something. It's about strategy… and about moving with more precision.
—Is this about Hiventek?
—Yes. But also about what you are. About what you do… even if you don't fully realize it yet.
Lucien paused.
—Anyone else know?
—No. But if you're not careful, they will.
The line went dead.
Lucien sat in the dark.
Then opened the notes app on his phone.
Record #5:
"The advantage isn't in being first… but in knowing where you're going."
✔ Record accepted.
Reward: Visualization tool for decision patterns in selected startups.
Usage: 3 times.
Rank: Strategy.
Exposure: +0.4%
Lucien nodded.
The race had begun.
But he wasn't going to run.
He was going to design the map.
~~~~~~~~
Silence isn't absence. It's calculation.
~~~~~~~~
The office in the Atria Building wasn't far. It was one of those financial towers where silence itself had value. Each floor felt designed so voices could only be heard when you wanted them to be.
Lucien arrived at 6:57 p.m.
As always, no rush. No mask.
He wore what he always did: black, clean, unbranded. He knew that people who truly mattered didn't look for logos—they watched posture.
The receptionist let him in without a word.
Ingrid was already there. Standing.
Wearing tailored dark pants and a pearl-grey blouse that didn't call attention—but said enough.
On the table: two laptops, a tablet, and a printed document.
Lucien entered silently, closed the door, and sat calmly.
—How convinced are you about this? —he asked, directly.
—As convinced as you are that trusting no one is the right call —she answered, steady.
Lucien glanced at the window. Outside, the city was slipping into violet shadows.
Ingrid slid the tablet toward him.
On the screen: Hiventek stats, feedback, user growth. Even an algorithmic projection graph.
—They're scaling. Small capital's coming in. Not official, but consistent. And you're behind it. Not with money… but with structure.
Lucien said nothing. He just read.
—I want in —she added—. Not as an investor. As strategic direction. If you accept, I have access to scaling routes that could multiply this phase.
Lucien returned the tablet to the table.
—And what do you want in exchange?
—Just one thing: don't play alone.
He raised his eyes.
Ingrid held his gaze. It wasn't flirtation, nor pressure.
It was precision.
—I'm not trying to trap you —she continued—. I want to build something that lasts longer than luck.
—And what if it's not luck?
—Then even better.
They spent the next twenty minutes reviewing three more startups Lucien had found using his private access. Ingrid didn't ask where he got the data. She didn't dig. She just analyzed.
When they finished, she stood. Closed her folder. Walked to the door. Before leaving, she paused.
—I don't need your answer now. Just think about this: there's a difference between having power… and having direction.
The door closed behind her.
Lucien remained still.
Silence.
Beyond the glass, the buildings blinked with artificial light.
He opened his phone's notes app.
"She played her hand."
"She's not here to collaborate. She's here to embed herself."
"Ingrid doesn't chase opportunities—she chases positions. Places where she can move without asking for permission once the machine is running."
He didn't hate her for it.
He didn't fear her either.
But he had read her.
He wouldn't push her away.
But he wouldn't let her steer the game either.
Record #6:
"I know who's watching me. And I know when to let them see."
✔ Record accepted.
Reward: Passive ability – External tracking resistance. Temporarily hides key movements from public databases.
Duration: 5 days.
Rank: Control.
Exposure: +0.6%
He turned off the screen.
The game was filling with new figures.
But he was still the one moving the pieces.