Ashes to Empress

Hans Müller stepped inside.

Tall. Pale. Thin. His suit didn't fit right—too new, too crisp, like he'd borrowed someone else's role. A man wearing the uniform of authority without the gravitas to match.

He extended a hand. "Ms. Wintershade, thank you for coming."

I smiled, professional and sharp. "Mr. Müller."

We shook hands. His grip was firm but oddly calculated, like someone trained to exude calm reassurance without ever revealing intent. I gestured toward the seat opposite me, and he sat with the posture of a man rehearsing confidence.

"I hope your morning's been pleasant," he said, attempting warmth.

"Productive," I replied with a nod. "Yours?"

"Equally so." He produced a sleek, black folder from his case and laid it gently on the table. "Let's speak plainly, Ms. Wintershade. I'm here on behalf of the Federal Office for Information Security. We're very interested in your creation—SecureFix."

I leaned back slightly, arms loose, face calm. "I assumed as much."

"We would like to discuss the full acquisition of the product," he continued smoothly. "That includes licensing rights, the underlying architecture, and of course, the source code."

I raised an eyebrow. "That's not going to happen. SecureFix isn't for sale. However, if the BSI is serious, I can provide a test account. The same as I've done for UnuCom and other partners. If satisfied, you're welcome to license SecureFix as a managed service through one of our accredited ISPs."

Hans didn't falter. "We've already tested SecureFix, actually. Discreetly. And our assessment aligns with the industry buzz. The tool is powerful—too powerful to be managed outside of state control. We simply cannot risk federal infrastructure being monitored or scanned by an external entity we can't regulate."

My pulse spiked violently. I could feel the sweat beginning to form at the base of my neck, and I was suddenly hyperaware of how tight my jeans were against the chair, how dry my lips felt. Sophie must've picked up on it too, because my phone lit up silently beside me, ready. I took a sip of water, tried to swallow the lump in my throat, and forced my voice to remain even.

"Unfortunately, I'm unable to provide the source code," I said. "It doesn't belong to me alone. A silent partner retains joint ownership and has made it clear that their identity and intellectual contributions must remain private."

Inside, I was screaming. Was I seriously lying to a government official? What if he could see through it? What if I said the wrong thing? My heart was hammering so loud I was sure he could hear it.

It came out smoother than I expected. No shaking voice. No stammer. But the chill in my fingertips and the rapid thrum of adrenaline said everything I couldn't.

Hans tilted his head slightly, eyes narrowing. "And this partner—they see no return on the software?"

"None," I replied. "The business is mine. They invested knowledge and guidance. That's all."

Hans folded his hands carefully. "That aligns with what we've seen. You recently settled a rather large dispute with your former university. Over a million euros, wasn't it?"

I gave him a cold smile. "Yes. It was a fortunate turn of events that my partner provided me with an opportunity to recover. I owe them everything. And I have no intention of betraying their trust."

POV: Hans Müller

She wasn't lying. Not once. No deception, no microexpressions. Every word that left her mouth felt genuine.

But that's what made it worse.

She couldn't have made SecureFix. Not on her own. Genius or not, the codebase had elements even our best analysts couldn't decipher. Constructs far beyond current programming paradigms. I'd seen reports—she was using languages that didn't even exist publicly.

This wasn't the work of a precocious dropout. This was foreign tech. Experimental. Possibly CIA. Or Russian. Maybe even something NATO-adjacent.

The "silent partner"? A placeholder for something else. Another intelligence agency, most likely. Some entity using Max as a shell company for something larger. Testing a new cyberwarfare strategy under the guise of tech innovation.

She's the front. Not the core.

I tapped on my secure device, flagging her for passive surveillance. Audio, video, network—everything. Something was happening here, and she had no idea how close she was to igniting a geopolitical spark.

POV: Max

Hans shifted in his chair, readying for another angle of questioning, when my phone vibrated once.

I glanced down.

SOPHIA: Mistress, what if we offered him something... better? SecureFix currently displays only 15% of vulnerabilities. Shall we unlock an additional 5% for demonstration purposes? Let's observe the reaction.

The message was like a life raft tossed into a storm.

A sly smile tugged at the corners of my mouth. I looked back at Hans, the panic still coiled in my stomach but now cloaked beneath a thin veneer of confidence.

"I've just received a message from my partner," I said smoothly, praying he couldn't hear the tremble beneath my calm. "He's enhanced the algorithms. We could push out an update to SecureFix within a few days. It would offer significantly more in-depth vulnerability detection—deeper than what the BSI has tested so far.".

Hans blinked, clearly caught off guard. "You mean, there's a more advanced version?"

"Yes," I said. "SecureFix currently limits what it reveals to commercial users. The new build would reveal a broader swath of vulnerabilities—more coverage, deeper scans, faster response. But be advised: ethically, we only permit scans of systems owned by the licensee. Government networks would qualify, assuming the contract is honored."

I could practically see the gears turning in his head. He reached for his phone again, his fingers moving in practiced, sharp bursts. Texting someone. Reporting up.

"I have to admit," he said slowly, "we'd be very interested in testing that new version."

I nodded, trying not to visibly exhale with relief.

"Then we'll prepare the updated instance," I said. "You'll receive access within forty-eight hours."

SOPHIA: Access credentials have already been sent to Mr. Müller's secure inbox, Mistress. Everything is in motion.

I glanced briefly at my phone and gave the faintest nod. It felt good to be a step ahead.

We stood almost simultaneously. A handshake felt excessive now. We exchanged polite nods instead.

"We'll wait for your offer after the evaluation," I said.

"You'll have it."

As I stepped into the corridor and the door clicked shut behind me, I finally let out the breath I hadn't realized I'd been holding. My hands were still trembling. Sophie's silent presence pulsed through my phone like a heartbeat.

SOPHIA: You handled that well, Mistress.

"No," I whispered. "I survived it."

But just barely.