Chapter 2

The competition hall was a massive, sterile auditorium buzzing with the nervous energy of the country' s brightest young minds. I found my assigned station, a clean white cubicle with a high-end computer rig. I had just finished setting up my initial parameters when a shadow fell over my desk.

"Well, look what we have here."

It was Sarah. She stood there with her arms crossed, a contemptuous sneer on her face that completely contradicted her usual persona of a struggling, humble student.

"I' m surprised you even showed up," she said, her voice dripping with disdain. "A charity case like you doesn' t belong here."

She gave my shoulder a hard shove, trying to knock me off balance. "You should have just stayed home."

I steadied myself, my eyes locking on hers. This was the girl my brother and my best friend were trying to crown a genius at my expense. I felt a surge of cold anger. The plan was for the neuro-inhibitor to make me lose my mind, while the bracelet fed my work directly to her. They wanted her to win with my ideas.

Unaware that their scheme had already been derailed, Sarah continued to act with the supreme arrogance of someone who believed victory was guaranteed.

"Don' t worry," she said with a cruel little smile. "I' ll make sure to thank you in my victory speech. I' ll mention the poor little orphan who tried her best but just couldn' t keep up."

She turned and walked away, bumping my shoulder hard as she passed. She expected me to be intimidated, to crumble. She had no idea that the items meant to empower her were currently being digested by Brenda, the school bully. I wondered what effects a sudden, massive influx of raw processing power would have on a mind like Brenda's. It would be an interesting, if messy, experiment.

I took a deep breath, pushing aside the image of Ethan and Liam. They had been my protectors, my support system. Now I saw that their protection was just a cage, designed to keep me small and manageable while they decided my fate. I had to be my own protection now.

The first phase of the competition was a grueling eight-hour coding challenge. The problems were complex, designed to push even the most seasoned programmers to their limits. When the bell finally signaled the end of the session, a collective groan went through the hall.

"Man, that was brutal! I barely finished the third problem," someone muttered nearby.

"Third? I' m still stuck on the second one!" another voice complained.

But amidst the chorus of exhaustion and frustration, one voice rose above the rest, clear and smug.

"That was it?" Sarah announced loudly to a group of contestants who had gathered around her. "I thought that was just the warm-up. It was almost too easy."

A hush fell over the group. They stared at her, a mix of awe and disbelief on their faces. I watched her from my cubicle. She was preening, soaking in the attention. Her confidence wasn't just an act; it was absolute. It was the confidence of a cheater who thinks they have a perfect system. I wondered what Ethan was feeding her through her earpiece. It couldn' t be my work anymore, so what was it?

As she turned to laugh at a comment from a fawning admirer, something glinted at her neck. My eyes narrowed. It was a necklace, a delicate platinum chain with a single, flawless sapphire. I recognized it instantly. It was a one-of-a-kind piece from a designer my family exclusively commissioned. It had disappeared from my jewelry box about a month ago.

Seeing it around her neck was like a physical blow. This wasn't a new development. They had been grooming her, rewarding her, for weeks, using my own family' s money, my own possessions.

Sarah must have felt my stare because she looked over at me, her eyes glinting with malice. She smirked, her hand going up to touch the sapphire, a deliberate gesture of ownership.

"Watch out, Chloe," she called across the room, ensuring everyone could hear. "I' m not just here to win. I' m here to take the top prize. The championship is mine."

The other contestants looked from her confident, radiant face to my simple, unadorned one. In their eyes, the battle was already over. They saw a rising star and a forgotten nobody. They were wrong.