The following morning, Maya walked into the office feeling like she had a secret nuclear weapon tucked into her handbag. Mal had spent the remainder of the previous night hunched over her laptop, his tiny claws clicking with improbable speed as he devoured the company's internal wiki, their quarterly reports, and what seemed like the entire history of modern business management theory. He'd muttered words like "inefficient," "primitive hierarchy," and "laughable profit margins" under his breath until she'd finally forced him to bed by threatening to replace his salmon with store-brand tuna.
Now, the source of her newfound confidence was currently curled up in the depths of her large tote bag, a silent, grumpy presence wrapped in a cashmere scarf. Bringing him to work was a calculated risk, but after the goblin incident, neither of them felt comfortable with him being alone and vulnerable in the apartment. Plus, as Mal had pointed out with infuriating logic, "How am I to assist in your ascension over this 'Brenda' if I cannot observe the battlefield firsthand?"
David, their department head, had called a mandatory strategy meeting for 10 AM. The air in the conference room was thick with the scent of weak coffee and low-grade anxiety. Brenda was already there, of course, positioned at the head of the table next to David's empty chair, her tablet and a perfectly organized set of color-coded notes laid out before her. She shot Maya a syrupy smile that didn't reach her eyes.
"Maya! So glad you could make it. I was just telling David we should get started, some of us have a full day of real work to get to." She gestured pointedly at her own pristine setup and then at Maya's simple notepad and pen.
Maya simply smiled back and took a seat halfway down the table. She carefully placed her tote bag on the floor between her feet, giving it a subtle nudge with her toe. A low, almost imperceptible grumble emanated from within.
David swept in, all forced cheer and corporate jargon. "Team! Synergy hour! We're here to blue-sky some next-gen, client-facing deliverables for the Q4 pipeline. I'm looking for big, disruptive ideas."
Brenda was ready. She launched into a presentation that was, as Mal would later describe it, "a masterclass in mediocrity, all gloss and no substance." It was a rehash of last year's strategy, sprinkled with new buzzwords like "blockchain-enabled engagement" and "AI-driven paradigm shifts," with no concrete plan for implementation. David nodded along, looking impressed.
Maya felt a familiar sinking feeling. This was Brenda's game: sound impressive, do little, and let others clean up the details.
A tiny, sharp claw gently pricked her ankle through her sock. She glanced down. The tote bag was vibrating slightly. She subtly slid her notepad closer to the edge of the table and let her pen hover.
The meeting droned on. When David finally asked, "Any other thoughts?" the room was silent. Brenda's smile was triumphant.
Then, Maya's hand went up.
"Actually, David, I have a few points," she said, her voice clear and steady.
Brenda's smile tightened. "Maya, we're talking about high-level strategy here, maybe this is better suited for a later—"
"I think Brenda's focus on emerging tech is visionary," Maya interrupted, the words flowing with an unnatural, silky confidence that wasn't entirely her own. It felt like she was reading from a teleprompter in her mind. "However, it overlooks our core vulnerability: client retention. Our data shows a 22% churn rate in clients who feel our deliverables aren't 'tangible' enough."
David leaned forward, his interest piqued. "Go on."
"Instead of chasing unproven tech, I propose we implement a 'Phased Value Realization' framework." The term rolled off her tongue. She hadn't even heard it before this second. "We break down our projects into micro-deliverables with immediate, measurable ROI for the client. We're not just selling a service; we're selling a series of visible wins. This directly counters the perception of nebulous outcomes that Brenda's… ambitious AI proposal might inadvertently reinforce."
She felt, rather than saw, Brenda's glare. The words kept coming, a flawless stream of analysis, data points she hadn't consciously memorized, and psychological insights into their client base that were eerily accurate. She outlined a simple, six-step process, complete with proposed KPIs and a timeline that was both aggressive and achievable.
The room was silent when she finished. David was staring at her, his mouth slightly open.
"Maya… that's… that's incredible," he finally said, his voice hushed. "That's exactly the kind of disruptive, yet practical thinking we need. Phased Value Realization… I love it. Let's make this the cornerstone of our Q4 push. I want you to own this initiative."
Brenda looked as if she'd been slapped. "David, with all due respect, my proposal has much broader—"
"We can integrate the AI components later, Brenda," David said dismissively, his eyes still on Maya. "Right now, we need a foundation. Maya, fantastic work. Truly."
As the meeting broke up, colleagues she'd barely spoken to all year stopped to clap her on the shoulder and offer congratulations. Brenda packed her things with sharp, furious movements and left without a word.
Back at her desk, Maya's heart was pounding, a mix of elation and sheer terror. She waited until the coast was clear, then leaned down towards her bag.
"What was that?" she whispered.
The bag shifted. A single, luminous golden eye peered out from the darkness. "That," Mal's voice rasped, low and smug, "was basic tactical maneuvering. I identified the weakness in the rival's position—their proposal was all show, no fortified walls—and presented a superior battle plan. You offered your chieftain a clear path to victory. He rewarded you. It is the way of things."
"You made me sound like a… a management guru."
"I simply organized the information your species has already accumulated into a more efficient and persuasive format. Your 'Brenda' relies on fear and obfuscation. A tyrant's tools. True power lies in offering a solution so logical it feels inevitable."
He settled back into the bag with a satisfied sigh. "Now, I require sustenance. That mental exertion was considerable. There is a food vendor on this street that sells 'gyros.' Acquire one for me. The mortal version of roasted hell-boar will suffice."
Maya leaned back in her chair, a slow, genuine smile spreading across her face. The promotion sting was gone, replaced by a thrilling sense of possibility. Brenda had used underhanded politics. David used empty jargon.
But she had a Dark Lord in her handbag.
For the first time in her career, the playing field felt truly level.