Chloe’s Game: No More Mr. Nice

The air in my workshop crackled with the hum of servers, a frantic race against a deadline for the National Tech Innovator' s Competition.

My revolutionary AI was finally ready, my fingers flying across the keyboard, when my older brother Ethan walked in, his smile perfect and camera-ready.

He handed me an energy drink, "A little something for good luck," he said, his voice smooth as silk.

But as my fingers brushed the can, a glitched red warning flashed on my monitor: "WARNING: Item contains a bio-tech neuro-inhibitor. Target: Chloe."