Gemotions

The patent lawyer’s office was opulent, the leather chairs smelling of money and ambition. Elias, clutching the blueprints of his self-folding laundry contraption, felt a tremor run through him. His creation, meticulously designed over years, was a marvel of engineering. He'd poured his heart into it. Now, the lawyer simply pointed to a screen. There it was: “Automatic Garment Consolidation Device.” The details matched his own design, almost verbatim. Elias swallowed, his throat suddenly dry. His knuckles, white against the worn paper, tightened.

"But... but how?" he stammered, his voice barely a whisper. The lawyer, a woman with eyes as sharp as tacks, merely raised an eyebrow. The room, usually a source of confidence, suddenly felt immense, suffocating. He leaned back in his chair, feeling his stomach twist. The world seemed to tilt on its axis.

The implications hit him like a physical blow. All that work, all that hope, instantly... null. He stared at the screen, a vast expanse of cold, hard facts. He couldn't formulate a coherent thought.