Visibility Surge: Indexed | Prestige Drift: Positive | Forecast Alignment: Under Review
Her rank had improved.
Despite everything.
She hadn't posted anything. She hadn't declared a change.
But the system had logged it anyway.
Not a rise.
Not yet.
But momentum.
Or maybe because of it.
She didn't trust it.
She didn't respond to Lyric's offer. Not directly.
But she didn't stop the ambient recalibration either.
The room cooled by one degree.
The lighting softened without losing its edge.
A scent she didn't request — jasmine and ash — whispered through the air.
Enough to steady her nerves.
Not enough to admit she needed it.
She crossed to the tray and picked up the supplement — the chilled flask still beading with condensation.
No ceremony. No hesitation.
She drank it in one motion, then set the glass down like it hadn't meant anything.
Then she turned toward the StyleForge.
She hadn't come for comfort.
She'd come to change.
To reset.
To regain control.
"Begin SleepCore optimization," she said quietly.
The room dimmed into dormancy prep, temperature adjusting to her biorhythm baseline. Her night attire shimmered into place — soft, minimal, ivory silk restructured by the StyleForge's precision weave.
It almost felt... normal.
And for a moment, that hurt more than anything.
She missed normal.
Not Avalon's version of it — hers.
The one where her friends sent voice memos that made her laugh.
Where her mom called her three times a day "just to hear your tone."
Where she didn't feel like every glance was a performance.
She had never felt so seen and yet so alone in her life.
Even Finn had been simple.
Part of the routine that made her life feel like it ran on charm and timing.
He hadn't challenged her.
But he'd belonged to the version of her that made sense.
The one who knew the rules, and always won.
She hesitated. Then whispered: "Open StyleVault."
The doors responded with flawless silence.
She didn't need anything else.
She just wanted her old phone — the one tucked away in the rear compartment, behind the untouched handbag and the single physical garment she'd worn on arrival. The only item in her wardrobe not born of StyleForge — static, irrelevant, and unmistakably hers.
YOU ARE READING
Valmont Series - Inheritance Code
Teen FictionWhat if your perfect life was just a rehearsal? On their twelfth birthday, Aria and Aiden Lancaster wake expecting luxury, freedom, and the future they were promised. Instead, they're given an ultimatum: Leave everything behind - their friends, thei...
Chapter 6.1 - Surveillance Isn't Silence
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