Gemotions

The email sat in Amelia’s inbox, glowing with the harsh light of the monitor. A terse message from a name she didn’t recognize: "Regarding the Glitch Protocol. I believe we're working on the same project." Her jaw tightened. Her fingers, usually nimble on the keyboard, hesitated over the reply box.

Amelia leaned back in her chair, the leather creaking in protest. A knot formed in her stomach. She’d poured months, entire weekends, into the Glitch Protocol. It was *hers*. The sheer audacity of this stranger, whoever they were, to claim the same territory… it was infuriating.

She decided to ignore the email. Perhaps they were mistaken. Probably just another intern making a clumsy attempt to garner attention. She clicked back to her code, but the lines of logic swam before her eyes.