Chapter 3: The Gala of Mirrors
The Aethelgard Founders’ Gala was the most secure building in Manhattan, a fortress of glass and steel. Ethan didn't have an invite, but he had the ring. When he walked through the service entrance, the biometric scanners didn't reject him. They turned green. The entire building recognized its creator.
He moved through the crowd like a specter. He saw Marcus Vane on the dais, receiving an award for the "Revolutionary Energy Grid." The crowd cheered for a man who had built an empire on a lie.
Ethan felt the memory surging—the feeling of the blueprints, the math that flowed through his mind like a river. He walked toward the main terminal at the back of the hall. Guards moved to stop him, but the building’s own security system—detecting his biometrics from the ring—locked the doors, trapping the guests inside.
Vane stopped speaking, his face draining of color as he saw Ethan standing by the terminal.
"Ladies and gentlemen," Ethan said, his voice amplified through the gala’s speakers, booming with a resonance that silenced the room. "You are enjoying a grid powered by a stolen mind. I think it’s time for a reboot."
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"Ethan, don't!" Vane shouted, pushing through the crowd. "You don't know what you're destroying!"
"I know exactly what I'm destroying," Ethan said, his hand hovering over the interface. "The prison you built for me."
