The 12th floor felt different the moment the elevator doors opened.
It wasn't the sleek, minimalist showroom of the 25th floor. The air smelled of aged vellum and expensive cedar. Large drafting tables replaced the floating glass desks of the upper floors, and the walls were covered in intricate, hand-drawn schematics of the city's historical landmarks.
Mei stepped out, her eyes scanning the room. She found the workstation area with her name tag on it. One large, sturdy table. Two chairs.
She walked toward it, her heels clicking against the dark wood floor.
"You're late."
The voice was sharp and clinical. Mei turned to see a girl standing by the window. She had her hair pulled back in a severe, functional bun. She wore an oversized, dark suit and thick glasses that didn't hide the intensity in her eyes. She looked like she had been born in a library and raised on a construction site.
"I was held up at HR," Mei said, keeping her voice neutral.
"Mm."
The girl walked closer. She didn't look at Mei's face; she looked at her file. "I thought I was the only one," she said, her voice dropping. Then she looked up. "Didn't you get assigned to the Chief Architect's team?"
Mei didn't flinch. "There was a change this morning."
Shaolin offered a cold, humorless smirk. "What happened? Did you realize his team is all ego and no substance? Or did they realize you weren't a fit for the 'Prodigy's' aesthetic?"
Mei tilted her head. "You tell me."
Shaolin scoffed, though she looked slightly surprised by the bite in Mei's tone. "I'm Shaolin. Second-ranked recruit." She stood proud and confident.
Mei nodded. "Mei."
"I know." Shaolin crossed her arms, leaning back against the drafting table. "Iwould have been upstairs, too. That's where they usually put the top two. But I requested this wing specifically."
Mei looked around. The equipment here was older, more analog, heavy-duty plotting machines and physical modeling tools that required a steady hand. "You asked to be here?"
"Yes. Madame Shen taught Yan Jing everything he knows. If you want to understand why his buildings haven't fallen down yet, you come here. She's the one who actually knows the bones of this city."
Mei watched her. She saw the raw ambition in Shaolin's eyes. It wasn't the desire for fame; it was the desire for mastery.
"And now there are two of us," Mei said.
Shaolin's mouth tightened. "It's inefficient. I don't like sharing my space, especially with someone who looks like they're headed to a photo shoot rather than a site visit."
Mei didn't react to the dig. She just set her leather-bound notebook down on the table. "Well, the space is shared. Get used to it."
Shaolin let out a short, dry laugh. "I worked for every decimal point on my transcript to get into this room. I don't plan on letting anyone get in my way."
"Good," Mei said softly. "Neither do I."
The door at the end of the hall opened, and a senior architect stepped out, dropping two heavy, leather-bound folders onto their table.
"Madame Shen is in Europe for the week," the woman said without looking at them. "She expects the structural audits for the South Quay restoration finished by the time she lands. It's foundational work. Don't mess it up."
Mei looked down at the sheer volume of data. It was manual, grueling work, calculating stress loads for heritage stone. No sleek software. Just math and patience.
Shaolin was already reaching for a pencil, her face set in a mask of total focus.
Mei pulled out her chair and sat. She was thousands of feet away from the Prodigy and his glass office. She didn't know why she had been moved, but she has every plans of finding out.