Ashes to Empress

Friday mornings used to mean dread. Cold floors. Stomach knots. Some passive-aggressive email from the university that would find a way to feel like a punch to the ribs. But not today. Today, I had the kind of morning that felt like a quiet rebellion.

I sipped real coffee—none of that instant powdery junk—and watched sunlight stream through clean windows. My apartment still smelled faintly of paint and plastic wrap, the scent of fresh starts. I padded across the floor barefoot, pulled my hoodie tighter around me, and flipped open my laptop.

NovaFrame first. Always NovaFrame. My little freebie camera app was growing legs. I had left it last night sitting at around 9,800 downloads. Now? Twelve thousand. Twelve. Thousand.

I blinked, then laughed—soft and slightly hysterical. My hands moved on instinct, checking the backend metrics. User retention, update compliance, crash logs. All clean. Then I checked the System. It gave me the number I was looking for: 7 KP.

I had done it. Another KP threshold. Seven points of pure, distilled knowledge currency.

Still grinning, I opened the AppStore page for NovaFrame, curious if maybe a blog or small tech channel had mentioned it. Instead, I was greeted by something much, much bigger.

MeTube Trending #12: "The Best Camera App You're Not Using – NovaFrame" by ByteSizedTech

Oh.

Oh.

I clicked the video, and my already-fried brain went into absolute meltdown. There he was, Leo from ByteSizedTech—two million subscribers, minimum. Casual hoodie, camera on a shallow depth-of-field setup. He wasn't just reviewing NovaFrame. He was gushing about it.

"This thing punches way above its weight," he said. "Dynamic range adjustment, anti-flicker stabilization, actual edge-aware sharpening, all in a free app. No ads. No in-app purchases. I'm not exaggerating when I say this wipes the floor with SnapShot Pro and even stands toe-to-toe with LensBoost."

The video kept rolling. Features I'd coded while sleep-deprived were now being screen-shared in 4K to hundreds of thousands of viewers. My download counter jumped before my eyes. 12,400. 13,800. 14,600.

I couldn't breathe.

By the time the video reached the three-minute mark, NovaFrame had crossed 25,600 downloads.

8 KP.

I dropped my head to the desk, forehead thunking against wood, and laughed like I'd just robbed a bank and gotten away with it.

Except I had earned this.

I sat up and rubbed my eyes. Onscreen, Leo was talking about the UI philosophy and performance footprint. My phone buzzed. I picked it up and winced.

God, this thing was awful. Slow, bloated, three years old, and it made every notification feel like an insult. Watching someone review my app on a pristine OLED screen while I used a device that stuttered opening the camera? That was too ironic to ignore.

I needed a new phone. Today.

I shut the laptop halfway, just enough to remember the outside world existed, and headed for the shower. I'd throw on something decent, grab a pastry, maybe swing by the mall. Just a normal day.

Or so I thought.

Ding.

My phone lit up again, just as I zipped up my jeans. Email. From the university.

Subject: Confirmation of Payment – Additional Charges Incurred

My stomach sank. I sat back down and opened the message.

"Dear Ms. Wintershade,

We confirm receipt of your recent payment of €1,100,000 to settle your outstanding tuition and administrative balances. However, due to accrued interest, processing fees, missed consultation sessions regarding financial restructuring, and administrative penalties, the University has assessed additional costs totaling €220,000.

Please see the attached breakdown for details."

Breakdown. Right.

I opened the PDF. It was absurd. €17,000 for "delayed processing." €8,900 for "disciplinary liaison surcharges." Several line items for "unsanctioned IT resource overhead," a term they'd clearly invented in a boardroom somewhere between spite and bureaucracy.

They weren't just draining blood. They were milking ghosts.

Fury crept up my spine like cold mercury. I thought I'd buried this. Paid what I owed—overpaid, even. But someone was keeping this feud alive like it was a game.

And I had a very strong suspicion someone had a personal reason to keep finding excuses.

Someone had it out for me. I didn't know who yet, but this didn't feel like standard admin incompetence—it felt targeted. Too deliberate. Too... creative. Whoever it was, they were digging, hoping I'd either fold or vanish.

I checked my accounts. After my tech splurge and furniture haul, I had 92,000 euros left. This new fee would wipe me out. Again.

I exhaled through my nose, hard, and started typing a reply:

"Dear Disciplinary Committee,

I would like to request a meeting to formally review and discuss the validity and future settlement of the recently assessed charges totaling €220,000. Please advise on available times.

Regards,

Max Wintershade."

I hit send.

Then I spun my chair around, opened my personal workstation, and launched the completed audit documents.

TeleCommNet and UnuCom.

SecurityFix had done its job. Each vulnerability documented, mapped, cross-referenced with existing CVEs. Some were bad. Really bad.

I opened a clean draft and wrote two nearly identical emails:

"Dear [Company],

Please find attached a security briefing detailing several vulnerabilities identified during an automated surface scan of your publicly accessible infrastructure. This document is a courtesy preview. Should you be interested in the complete analysis, including vector predictions and mitigation strategies, I would be happy to discuss licensing terms.

Regards,

M. Wintershade."

Send. Send.

Then I turned back to the university problem.

This wasn't about money anymore. It was about precedent. If I let this slide, there would always be more "new fees". Penalties. Ghost debts. I needed to know who was pushing this from the inside.

I opened SecurityFix again—this time targeting the university's digital perimeter. It wouldn't break in, not without a handshake or token. But it would probe. It would find cracks. And I'd look through them.

Scan time: 5 hours.

Fine.

I stood up, stretched, and glanced at the clock. It was nearly noon.

Right as I was about to make lunch, a reply pinged in from UnuCom.

"Dear Ms. Wintershade,

Thank you for your outreach. We'd be very interested in discussing your findings in person. Are you available this afternoon at 3:30 PM at our Frankfurt HQ?"

I stared.

Well, that escalated.

I sent a quick confirmation, then ran to find a blazer that didn't scream "freelancer with trust issues."

UnuCom HQ looked exactly like every tech company in this city: glass, steel, smiles too white to be natural. I was ushered into a conference room where three people were already seated.

"Ms. Wintershade, thank you for coming," said the one in the middle. "I'm Tobias Meinhard, Head of IT. To my right is Carla Voss, our Client Strategy Director. And this is Hans Koller, Head of Web Infrastructure."

I nodded, sat. My palms were cold.

"We've reviewed your teaser document," Tobias said, steepling his fingers. "Impressive work. Which is why we'd like to offer you €2.8 million for full access to the report."

I blinked. Once. Twice.

"For just the report?"

"No," Carla said, "we also want to discuss long-term collaboration. The way the document was generated—it's clearly not hand-written."

I inclined my head. "Correct. I developed a system that identifies active vulnerabilities, matches them against known CVEs and zero-days, and drafts structured analysis."

"We want that," Hans said. "The system. The software."

There it was.

"I'm not selling the software," I said evenly. "It's too dangerous in the wrong hands."

Carla raised a brow. "Then what are you offering?"

"A service model. I retain ownership and host it on my infrastructure. You license access. You sell it to your clients as an added layer. I provide the engine. You provide the skin."

They conferred briefly in murmurs.

"We'd need specs," Tobias said. "Cost estimates. SLA guarantees."

"I'm not ready to quote hosting costs yet," I said. "I need to benchmark hardware and bandwidth. But I'll know more in a week."

Carla didn't look thrilled. But she didn't say no.

"We'll wait. For now, we'll move forward with the €2.8 million for the document."

I nodded slowly. "Deal."

On the tram ride home, I couldn't stop staring at my reflection. I looked like someone else. Someone in control.

When I got home, I sat down, opened my secure banking app, and messaged my client liaison:

"Just a heads-up: Incoming transfer from UnuCom within the next business day. Estimated amount: €2.8 million."

I hit send.

Then I finally let myself exhale.

For now.