Jelika’s warning hung in the air, a live wire crackling with immediate danger. Brisenna’s gaze shot past her best friend, through the widening gap in the mangled elevator doors, towards the chaotic, neon-drenched expanse of the Veltoris Spire’s main lobby. The space, usually pristine and sharp with hyper-capitalist grandeur, looked torn apart. Overturned chrome reception desks, splintered holographic displays, and the glint of discarded weaponry littered the marble floor. At the epicenter of the destruction, illuminated by the lurid glow of emergency strobes, stood a figure so unnervingly familiar that Brisenna’s stomach lurched. It was Vanya. Her twin sister was a vision of controlled fury, a stark contrast to Brisenna’s own disheveled state. Vanya wore a tailored suit of midnight obsidian, sharp as a razor, and wielded a custom-fitted plasma rifle with a casual grace that spoke of long practice. Her face, a perfect mirror of Brisenna’s, was etched with a cold, calculating ambition that Brisenna had only ever glimpsed in fragmented nightmares. Behind her, a contingent of hard-faced enforcers from the Ashven Collective stood at attention, their heavy-duty blasters ready. Zaros moved first, his palm resting against Brisenna’s spine, guiding her past the buckled lift frame. His voice, usually a gravelly hum, was low and urgent. “This isn’t the time for a family reunion, Brisenna. She’s here to finish the deal.” Vanya’s eyes, identical in color to Brisenna’s but devoid of any warmth, narrowed. She took a slow, deliberate step towards them, her stiletto heels clicking a deadly rhythm on the shattered floor. “Well, well, well. Look what the plummeting elevator dragged in,” Vanya purred, her voice a silk-edged blade. “The imposter. I half-expected you to have been splattered across the sub-levels by now.” She gestured with her rifle toward the Veltoris directors, who huddled behind a reinforced reception counter. “Tell them, Brisenna. Tell them who you really are.” Brisenna’s heart gave a terrified flutter, but then Zaros’s steady presence beside her, the memory of his confession in the elevator, solidified her resolve. She met Vanya’s gaze, her chin lifting fractionally. “I am the CEO of Veltoris.” The words, though raspy, carried across the cracked tiles. Vanya let out a short, incredulous laugh. “Oh, really? You think a few weeks playing dress-up makes you a legitimate leader? This company, this entire conglomerate, belongs to me. It’s always been mine. And now, I’m here to finalize its transfer to the Ashven Collective, as was always intended.” She swept her gaze over the terrified board members. “The contracts are drawn. You will acknowledge me as your rightful CEO and sign over the necessary assets, or you will find yourselves… unemployed. Permanently.” One of the executives, the perpetually nervous Elder Glaven, poked his head above the counter. “Madam Vanya, with all due respect, the council has already convened. The shareholders… they’re quite content with the current leadership.” Vanya scoffed. “Content? With this… this housemaid playing at power? She serves muffins! Muffins, old man!” “Precisely,” another official, the austere Director Selphyn, interjected, emboldened by the elder. “Her… methods have proven remarkably effective. Morale is, surprisingly, at an all-time high among the executives. There’s a… a delicious uncertainty to her management style. We find her unique brand of psychological warfare… refreshing.” “Psychological warfare?” Vanya repeated, her voice dripping with disbelief. “She’s just kind! She doesn’t know what she’s doing!” “Indeed,” Glaven added, his chin bobbing. “The sheer audacity of her kindness, madam, it’s truly terrifying. We never know if she’s about to offer us a comforting cup of tea or subtly dismantle our entire division with a single, polite smile. It keeps us on our toes.” The board, in a surprisingly unified chorus, reaffirmed their preference for Brisenna’s ‘reign of terror.’ Vanya’s face twisted into a mask of pure frustration. “You fools!” Just then, the grand lobby doors exploded inward with a crash, showering them with shards of reinforced plasteel. Rhovann, looking utterly distraught, stumbled into the chaos, his expensive suit disheveled, his eyes bloodshot. He scanned the room wildly, his gaze landing on the twin figures of Brisenna and Vanya. His face immediately brightened with desperate recognition. “Brisenna! My love! My magnificent, terrifying CEO!” He lurched across the ruined lobby, blind to the armed mercenaries, blind to the cowering council. He fell to his knees directly in front of Vanya, mistaking her for Brisenna in his blind, groveling desperation. His hand shot out, seizing Vanya’s hand with a desperate grip. “I was a fool! A complete, utter imbecile! I saw you, truly saw you, only when you became this titan of industry! Forgive me, Brisenna! Take me back! I’ll do anything! I’ll ruin anyone you want! I’ll even wash your… your muffin tins!” Vanya’s face, already contorted with rage, went from furious to murderous in an instant. Her eyes flashed with pure contempt. She didn’t utter a word. Instead, with a swift, brutal flick of her wrist, she brought the sharp, reinforced toe of her stiletto heel up with bone-shattering force. There was a sickening crunch as it connected squarely with Rhovann’s nose. He screamed, a high-pitched wail of pain and shock, releasing her hand and clutching his face as blood welled between his spread-apart digits. Brisenna flinched, struck by sudden, unearned pity for him. Even though Rhovann deserved it, the sheer savagery of the act was jarring. Zaros’s hand tightened on her back, a silent anchor. Brisenna looked at Vanya, then back at the board, then at Rhovann writhing on the floor. Nerves still gnawed at her ribs, but steel took root beside them. “I’m not stepping down, Vanya,” Brisenna declared, her voice ringing with newfound clarity. She met her sister’s gaze, no longer cowering. “This company might have been yours by birth, but it’s mine by right of saving it. And I will protect it. From you. From the Ashven Collective. From anyone who tries to dismantle it.” Vanya merely smirked, a chilling, predatory expression that distorted her features. “Oh, Brisenna, you naive fool. You think you have a choice?” Her gaze drifted past Brisenna, towards the shattered lobby doors, where a new wave of heavily armed figures, bearing the insignia of the notorious Oblivion Syndicate, began to pour in. The leader, a hulking brute with a scarred face, recognized Vanya instantly. “She’s the CEO, kill her!” Vanya shrieked, her finger pointing directly at Brisenna.

Seeing Double