Jason didn't sleep that night.
He sat in the glass conference room with Naomi and two of his most trusted engineers, Rohan and Cass.
The screen showed paused surveillance footage: him, dining with the CFO of ByteSplice. Every angle was captured—clear audio, encrypted metadata.
"Internal?" Rohan asked, rubbing his temple.
"Has to be," Jason said. "This wasn't hacked from the outside. The watermark's local. It came from one of our own devices."
Naomi's jaw was set. "You think Valkyrie planted someone?"
Jason stared at the footage for another moment, then nodded. "Or bought someone already here."
He stood up, rolling his sleeves.
"Fine. If they want to play spy games… we'll play warfare."
---
By morning, the entire PulseCast HQ had shifted.
No announcement. No visible change.
But behind the scenes, a digital trap was being set.
Rohan had written a script that quietly injected false data trails into sensitive communications. Each version was subtly different—and tagged with a unique signature.
If even one byte leaked, they'd know exactly who leaked it.
They called it: Project Trojan Horse.
Naomi watched from the corner of Jason's office. "Feels a little paranoid."
Jason gave her a look. "So is carrying a parachute. Until your plane catches fire."
---
Meanwhile, outside the PulseCast bubble, the media had begun to shift tones.
A piece in TechRadar Weekly labeled Jason Nash "the most unpredictable founder since Elon Musk."
Another op-ed said PulseCast was "on a dangerous path toward media monopoly."
Jason smiled when he read that.
He printed it out, framed it, and hung it in the break room.
"Let them scream," he told the staff. "If no one's scared, you're not building fast enough."
---
That evening, just before midnight, Naomi's phone buzzed.
ALERT: Trojan Signature 014 BREACHED
She ran to Jason's penthouse without calling ahead. He opened the door in a T-shirt and sweatpants.
"We got one," she said, breathless. "Someone forwarded a copy of the fake creator payout model to a Valkyrie-owned analytics firm in New York."
Jason's eyes darkened.
"Who?"
Naomi pulled up the internal report.
Jason read the name… and froze.
It wasn't some new hire. It wasn't a temp.
It was someone Jason had brought in himself.
A friend from before the rebirth.
Someone who once saved him from ruin.
---
Jason sat down slowly.
For the first time in weeks, the fire behind his eyes dimmed.
Naomi stood beside him, unsure what to say.
After a long pause, Jason whispered, "Even in this life… I still didn't see it coming."
He looked up at her.
"Schedule a meeting with him for tomorrow morning."
Naomi raised a brow. "What are you going to do?"
Jason's voice was calm. But inside, it was ice.
"I'm going to give him a choice," he said.
"Leave… or burn."