The studio was loud when Malik walked in.
Not with voices — with sound. Screens booting. Printers grinding. The crackle of foamboard and the rush of stressed breath from architecture majors who'd pulled all-nighters.
But when Malik entered, fresh, calm, and dressed in a perfectly fitted cream overcoat and silver chain, the noise seemed to tilt toward him. Not silence. Just… pause.
Tessa was already at their table. She looked up, took in the coat, then the steel in his eyes.
"Alright," she said. "What did you do?"
Malik pulled out his flash drive, flicked it between his fingers, and grinned.
"I leveled up."
Professor Kim called the room to order.
"Today's informal prototype review. Pick one team to present. Anyone ready?"
Cameron stood immediately.
"Actually," he said, projecting his voice like a politician, "I think Carter and Monet should go. I heard they've got something amazing."
Malik turned toward him. Cameron's grin was polite — too polite.
Kim blinked. "You volunteering them?"
"Just building the spirit of the class. They're trendsetters now."
Whispers rippled.
Tessa glanced at Malik, unsure.
Malik stepped forward. Calm. Cool.
"We'll go first."
The lights dimmed.
Malik slotted in the drive. The screen lit up with a high-resolution rendering of the microhome concept: sleek black panels, curved roof, space that folded like origami.
Then the animation played.
The class watched as the house breathed — the solar skin shifted with the angle of light. Walls expanded when weight sensors detected multiple occupants. The bedroom and workspace rotated on a circular track, powered by gravity pull.
Gasps. Low murmurs. Someone up front just whispered, "Holy…"
Kim leaned forward in his seat.
"Explain the build logic," he said.
Malik spoke clearly, each word landing like a blueprint laid on glass.
"It uses a dynamic axis frame — built on a 3D-printed base that adapts to urban grid shapes. The internal systems use passive energy harvesting. It's designed for post-pandemic isolation comfort and communal reintegration."
He clicked to the last slide — a live 3D model.
Tessa stepped in smoothly. "And every material used is under the $15k limit. We triple-checked sourcing. Fully compliant."
Cameron's voice cut in from the back.
"Or maybe you downloaded some prototype off ArchiNet and called it yours."
A few heads turned. Malik didn't.
Kim narrowed his eyes. "Mr. Vale, do you have proof of plagiarism?"
Cameron shrugged. "Just asking questions."
Malik turned, slowly.
"You want proof?" he said. "Pull up the campus workstation logs. I built the file on public lab software — timestamped. Or check my phone archive. Real-time renders logged to my student ID."
He let the silence stretch.
Cameron blinked.
Malik turned back to Kim. "Unless it's a crime to be ahead of the curve."
Professor Kim didn't smile. But he nodded.
"Project stands," he said. "In fact — Malik, Tessa — I want you two to refine this for the fall innovation expo. Full credit and formal entry."
The room broke.
People clapped. Some just stared. Tessa's jaw dropped, then curled into a sharp, proud smile.
Cameron sat back, fists clenched beneath the desk.
As Malik packed up, the system whispered again.
🎯 Face-Slap CompletePublic Discredit Reversal: Executed🎁 Reward: Passive Skill — Social Dominance (Level 1)🧠 Effect: Gains increased control of public mood in group settings. Presence boost.
🔓 New Feature Unlocked: Influence Check-Ins
Malik zipped his bag, turned toward the door, and passed Cameron without a glance.
"Thanks for the assist," he said softly.
Cameron didn't respond.
The hallway buzzed like an electric wire.
Students who'd never looked Malik's way before suddenly found reasons to smile, nod, or float close. He passed conversations where his name wasn't even whispered — it was said out loud, like he belonged.
"Yo, that design was unreal…"
"...he's the one with the Jordans, right?"
"I heard the professor fast-tracked his project to the Expo. Like, real exposure."
Malik said little. Just kept walking. The coat flowed behind him, and the air parted like he'd upgraded more than just his outfit — like the man himself had re-coded.
Tessa followed, two steps behind.
"Okay," she said, catching up, "real talk."
He looked over.
"You're not normal," she said. "And I don't mean the shoes or the renders or the voice that sounds like you could sell sand in a desert. I mean—this whole thing."
Malik lifted a brow. "You saying that like it's a bad thing."
"I'm saying it like I don't know whether to be impressed or suspicious."
He stopped walking.
Tessa did too.
Their classmates flowed around them like they didn't exist.
Malik leaned in just a little — not crowding, but close enough to drop his voice.
"You ever see someone break orbit?" he asked. "Most people think it's loud. But when it happens right… it's quiet."
She stared at him for a beat longer than necessary.
Then: "You're lucky I don't scare easy."
Across campus, Cameron Vale wasn't celebrating.
He paced inside his suite — off-campus luxury, granite counters, designer furniture. Anger pulsed beneath his skin like static.
Malik Carter had made him look small.
Not with insults. Not with drama.
With skill.
That was worse.
He pulled out his phone and opened his encrypted chat with a group labeled The Circle.
CV: Need access to the board of the Innovation ExpoCV: One student entry needs to be "disqualified"
CV: Carter. Malik.
[RedactedUser001]: Give us two days. We'll handle it quietly.
Cameron exhaled.
"Welcome to the game, Malik," he whispered. "Let's see how far you actually get."
Malik didn't hear the message ping.
He was sitting on a stone wall outside the architecture building, sun on his back, when the system flickered again.
📶 Influence Check-In Event: PassedYour social standing has changed
🎁 Reward: New Skill — Command Presence (Level 1)
🎯 Passive Effect:
Increased impact of spoken words
First impressions now +50% stronger
➕ Option: Engage Influence Bonus?
Accepting may trigger ripple effects in social hierarchy. Proceed?
He stared at the glowing prompt.
Ripple effects.
Malik thought of Tessa watching him like a question wrapped in challenge. Of Cameron's veiled threats. Of the way people now paused when he spoke, or tried to.
He tapped Accept.
The air around him didn't change.
He did.
Inside the same building, Tessa leaned on a window ledge, phone in hand — pretending to scroll, but watching him through the glass.
A professor walked past and said something about "future greatness."
She didn't answer.
Because her eyes hadn't moved.
She was watching the moment before the flame turned into a wildfire.