In the marketing tower of Diamond Tycoon, Victoria was sitting in her chair, gently spinning from side to side with an expression somewhere between tiredness and pure disgust.
In front of her, a pile of holographic reports projected on the black glass table, each with proposals so absurd that she began to wonder if the development team's breakfast included hallucinogenic mushrooms.
She skimmed through another report:
"Bra with emotional sensor that changes color according to the user's mood..."
"Automatic shock bracelet as motivational alarm clock..."
"Instant bath capsules (basically a giant effervescent bomb that supposedly cleans the whole body in 30 seconds)…"
"For Cryon's sake…" Victoria muttered, rubbing her temple as if she could squeeze patience from her own forehead.
Discarding three more projects with a slight hand gesture, she sighed deeply and pressed the button of the intercom embedded in the table. "Call my assistant. Now."
The presidential office door opened seconds later, the assistant punctual, elegant, and a bit anxious, holding a tablet and an extra strong coffee already anticipating the request.
Victoria took the coffee and took a long sip, then pointed to the reports with a raised eyebrow:
"Megan, by any chance... did the development department turn into an amusement park for uncontrolled geniuses? Do they have permission to waste resources and oxygen on this stuff?"
Megan coughed discreetly, then looked at the tablet as if it were a shield against Victoria's sharp gaze.
"Actually, ma'am… these projects are from the new interns in the development division. They're on probation. All recently graduated from top institutions and, well… still adjusting to the market reality."
Victoria stared at the assistant for a moment with a dry look. Then leaned back in her chair, crossing her legs.
"Market reality? Megan… no parallel reality supports an 'intelligent bikini with AI that reacts to the emotional climate of the beach.' And I'm not making this up, that was literally in report 14-B!"
Megan tried not to laugh, but the battle was hard. "It's just… they created a WhatsApp group and are using these proposals as a learning method. They think it's important to hear the CEO's direct opinion. Over time, the ideas have become more… realistic. Less 'science fair project on caffeine overdose,' let's say."
Victoria huffed, but a tiny almost imperceptible pride showed behind the irony.
"Well... good to know that chaos at least has a purpose." She took another sip of coffee and drummed her fingers on the table. "Tell them that if the next report contains anything involving AI attached to underwear or cosmetics that explode in motivational confetti, I'll personally do the training with them. In the rain. Without an umbrella. On a Monday."
Megan nodded quickly, typing on the tablet. She hesitated a bit, then added with a smirk.
"But... honestly, ma'am... they really admire you. They discuss your reports with reverence and even printed a phrase of yours from a meeting: 'Idea without market is just noise disguised as innovation.' It became like a motto in the group."
Victoria, caught by surprise, raised an eyebrow. A short smirk formed on her lips. "Tsk. So at least they're listening to something useful. There's still hope."
Victoria got up from the chair, took the remaining reports and let them float over the table, activating the low-priority archive command.
"I'll let it slide… for today. But if any of them sends me another emotional bra or anti-laziness electrotherapy bracelet, I'll make all of them do sanitary pad marketing in small towns during summer. Understood?"
"Understood." Megan laughed. "Should I put that as an official threat in the integration manual?"
"Put it in bold."
They both laughed quietly, and Victoria returned to her chair, now with a calmer mind or at least less clogged with wild inventions.
In the next tower, the Diamond Tycoon development building buzzed with creative energy.
The floors were true ecosystems of innovation, where employees with messy hair from sleepless nights shared space with others wearing stiletto heels and sharp gazes.
Each with their ideas, their data, their craziness, some bursting with potential, others evaporating in the heat of reality.
In one of the rooms, Nayra Klemens, recently graduated in fashion design with honors, was immersed in a sea of holographic projections.
Reports floated around her, trend graphs danced in blue and gold in the air. Her concentrated and bright gaze was not that of a lost novice — it was that of a young dream architect who had just found her target.
On the central screen hovered the name that had been synonymous with excellence for over a thousand years: CHANEL.
The keywords of the reports jumped in front of her, golden and silver lines in continuous motion:
Luxury Fashion: Haute couture and elite prêt-à-porter, with smart fabrics and ergonomic design.
Beauty: Molecular perfumes that adapt to the user's mood, lipsticks with micro-hydration stimuli, activated carbon revitalizing masks.
Jewelry & Watchmaking: Timeless pieces with gems synthesized in stellar pressure chambers.
Licensing & Accessories: Interplanetary partnerships with Luxottica Galaxy Division, manufacturing with sustainable nanotechnology.
Nayra sighed, almost in reverence. Chanel was not just a brand. It was a cultural empire. A wearable philosophy.
She slid her fingers on the panel and pulled a special report titled: "History and Impact of Chanel in the 31st Century: creative freedom, innovation, cultural impact, and timeless adaptation."
"That's it…" Nayra murmured, adjusting her glasses.
She stayed silent for a few seconds, looking at the projection of CEO Lumine beside Co-founder Luna Malroth, both in the corporate hall of fame of Tycoon.
"If they built an empire from scratch... why can't I raise a new tower?" she thought, her heart racing.
With quick fingers, Nayra began to draft her proposal: A core of fashion design, perfumery, and jewelry inspired by Chanel's legacy, but with its own signature.
A project born inside Tycoon — simply named "Maison Tycoon."
It would be more than fashion. It would be a manifestation of power, innovation, and modern sensuality. Mixing tradition with futuristic trends, with products designed for women who want more than beauty: they want dominion.
With passion burning in her chest, Nayra typed precisely:
Subject: Proposal for the Creation of an Autonomous Haute Couture Core: Maison Tycoon
Recipient: CEO Lumine's Office.
From: Nayra Klemens – Development Sector (Fashion and Aesthetics)
Dear Presidential Team,
I humbly present a well-founded proposal for the creation of a specialized core in haute couture, jewelry, and perfumery, modeled after the great luxury maisons of our time — directly inspired by Chanel's history and approach, adapted for Tycoon's market and values.
Proposal Summary:
Name: Maison Tycoon
Objective: Establish an internal luxury brand focused on smart fashion, emotional perfumery, and symbolic jewelry.
Inspiration: Chanel (timeless approach, focus on comfort, functional elegance, and cultural impact).
Strategic Reason: Consolidate Tycoon as a leader not only in technology and cosmetics but also as a fashion reference, increasing reach, identity, and brand value.
Differential: Combination of smart fabrics, empowering design, and transdimensional aesthetics.
I am aware of my current position's limitations and experience but put myself at disposal to lead the project's initial phase under the guidance, mentorship, and validation of in-house professionals. I believe Tycoon has the resources and creative soul to make this a reality — and hope to be part of it.
Sincerely,
Nayra Klemens
Development Department (Internship)
She reread the email three times, each time with a faster heartbeat, but also with more conviction.
Finally, she took a deep breath and clicked "SEND."
The hologram disappeared softly with a metallic sound, and Nayra fell back in her chair with a silly smile.
"If I get this... I'll blow up this company with so much hot fashion."
At that exact moment, the name "Nayra Klemens" was registered in the presidential reading queue.
Hours later...
The holographic clock marked 22:37 when Lumine, elegantly seated in her presidential chair, glanced through another series of floating reports in front of her.
Each tab, a bold or completely lunatic attempt by the new employees freshly out of college.
Sighing with furrowed brows, Lumine ran her hand through her hair and muttered, "I'm getting too old to deal with so much academic surrealism…"
She was about to archive another proposal automatically when a subtle notification shone at the lower edge of the interface.
> New proposal: Creation of haute couture brand — Intern Nayra Klemens.
Lumine raised an eyebrow, more out of boredom than curiosity, and clicked with her index finger.
The screen expanded, revealing the well-written, clear, objective proposal.
The name "Chanel" appeared several times in the paragraphs and the proposal title: Maison Tycoon.
She squinted for a moment, bringing her hand to her chin.
The proposal was not only well formulated… but made sense. There was no hysterical excitement typical of novices.
It was a mature idea.. Organized. Inspired. Structured.
"Hm… Chanel, huh?" she murmured, the name sliding in her mind.
With a gesture, Lumine opened a new holographic research tab and typed "Chanel in the 31st Century – Current Status."
The results appeared in cascade.
She read headlines carefully:
"Chanel faces decline in relevance after a millennium of reign"
"Haute couture under threat: new brands dominate luxury fashion sectors"
"Merger between Chanel and lunar conglomerate raises questions about brand identity"
Opening the market data, Lumine saw that although Chanel was still respected, it was no longer the reference. It had lost itself in mergers, failed bets on cheesy augmented realities, and campaigns that no longer dialogued with the new millennium's audience.
She leaned back in the chair and crossed her legs elegantly. She looked at the wall with the Tycoon emblem and thought:
"If even a monolith like Chanel lost strength… maybe it's time for someone to raise something new. Something that represents the woman of the 31st century — strong, beautiful, self-owned, and empire holder."
Her eyes returned to Nayra's proposal. The intern's name was there, small and discreet at the bottom corner of the screen. There was something charmingly bold about that girl.
"Nayra Klemens…" she repeated the name quietly, as if savoring those syllables on the roof of her mouth.
Without hesitation, Lumine digitally signed the file and added a special seal:
AUTHORIZED FOR EXPLORATION PHASE – INVOLVE DESIGN, MARKETING, AND FINANCE DIRECTORS.
The signature completed with the Tycoon symbol. The Maison Tycoon project had received the green light.
But even after authorizing, Lumine remained there, sitting. Eyes fixed on the distant city through the glass wall.
A question whispered in her mind, accompanied by the tip of a thoughtful smile: Is it worth investing in fashion… now?
The sector was competitive. Ruthless. Full of old brands, emerging ones, and, of course, the relentless eyes of True Beauty, Tycoon's dark rival.
But at the same time, there was nothing that seemed more… Tycoon than betting big. Turning the unlikely into gold.
She snapped her fingers and the interface closed.
It was time to return to the sea of emails with insane projects waiting for cruel and fair judgment.
But deep in Lumine's mind, the name Maison Tycoon already shone like a golden seed about to bloom.
If Nayra was competent… that seed might just change the fashion world.
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