Nyra felt it before anyone said anything.
The air around her desk had shifted thinner, sharper, like something fragile was being tested. Conversations dipped when she passed. Smiles didn't last long enough. Even the keyboards sounded cautious.
Rumors traveled faster than code.
"She thinks she runs the place."
"I heard she rewrote Vale's framework."
"Too confident for an intern."
Nyra ignored it all. Noise had never paid her bills.
At 10:42 a.m., Elias was summoned again.
This time, it wasn't casual curiosity wrapped in politeness.
Two senior engineers. An HR representative. A closed door that didn't reopen for nearly thirty minutes.
Nyra didn't stare. She kept working, eyes fixed on her screen, jaw tight. This wasn't new to her systems always tested the weak points first.
When Elias finally returned, his face was calm, but his shoulders were tense in a way Nyra recognized.
"They weren't subtle," he said quietly, sitting down. "They wanted me to doubt you."
"And?" she asked.
"I didn't."
That was enough.
"They asked about your habits," Elias continued. "Your 'outside life.'"
Nyra scoffed softly. "Of course they did."
"They wanted me to confirm you were… unstable."
She laughed once, sharp. "If I were, their system would still be bleeding."
Elias smiled, then sobered. "Vale's watching. Closely."
Nyra already knew.
Adrian passed their row shortly after lunch, stopping beside Nyra's desk like he belonged everywhere at once.
"You're becoming divisive," he said casually.
"Only to people who feel replaceable," Nyra replied.
Adrian's smile didn't move his eyes. "You isolate yourself."
"By choice."
"Choice has consequences."
"So does control."
For a second, the room felt too small.
Adrian straightened his jacket. "Just remember talent doesn't make you untouchable."
Nyra finally looked up at him. "Neither does money."
He walked away.
At lunch, interns clustered together, laughter loud and pointed. Nyra ate alone, cigarette resting behind her ear, phone glowing with lines of private code her real work, untouched by corporate approval.
Elias sat with her anyway.
"Apparently I'm a risk now," he said lightly.
She smirked. "You always were."
Outside, rain slid down the windows, city blurring into shadows and light.
When the workday ended, Nyra skipped the rooftop.
Some nights, separation was survival.
On the Eastside, Shark waited outside the diner, arms crossed, eyes narrowed.
"You're drifting," he said.
"I'm evolving," Nyra replied.
"Evolution gets noticed."
"Good."
Shark studied her carefully. "Don't forget who taught you how to move unseen."
Nyra met his gaze. "I didn't forget. I just don't live there anymore."
Shark said nothing.
But the look in his eyes said this wasn't over.
Nyra walked past him into the night, aware of the truth tightening around her:
Pressure didn't break her.
It revealed who couldn't handle her.