7:00 a.m. – Organization Headquarters, Lobby
Try One adjusted his tie in the reflection of the building’s glass entrance. The morning light bounced off the polished steel, a perfect taphor for the image he was about to project—calm, composed, and in complete control.
He walked through the rotating doors with a purpose, passing security with a nod and a confident stride. Every move had been rehearsed a thousand tis. Every face, every na—etched into his mory from lifetis of failure.
But this ti? This ti, he wasn’t here to play safe.
This ti, he was going to climb.
He t eyes with Darius Bell, the Head of Internal Operations, who had once executed him in loop #78421. Try One smiled like he didn’t rember a thing.
"Darius," he greeted with a firm handshake, "I hear there’s a restructuring in Departnt 3."
Darius raised an eyebrow, caught off guard. "How did you know that?"
Try One leaned in, lowering his voice just enough. "Let’s just say I have my sources—and I’m good at finding gaps that need... smarter leadership."
He left that hanging in the air and walked on without waiting for a reply.
Darius blinked, unsettled. Try One didn’t look like a junior analyst anymore—he looked like a shark.
And sharks swam where blood was thickest.
10:30 a.m. – Conference Room B-12
The room buzzed with tension. Mid-level managers, directors, and a few power-hungry departnt heads sat at the long table, murmuring about budget cuts and resource reallocations. Try One took the seat farthest from the head, unnoticed—exactly how he wanted it.
He scanned the room. Jason Kline—corrupt, arrogant, and secretly embezzling funds—was sitting smug with a coffee. Amanda Reese—an ambitious climber but reckless in her moves—flipping through docunts. And then, seated at the head, the director himself: Malcolm Veers.
Try One had been in this room hundreds of tis. Killed in this room more than thirty. Ignored in almost all of them.
But not today.
The mont the budget projections were pulled up, Try One struck.
"If I may," he said calmly, interrupting Malcolm, "Slide 8 contains three incorrect projections."
Heads turned.
Jason scoffed. "And who are you again?"
Try One smiled, polite and cold. "Soone who’s read these reports... thoroughly."
He stood, walked to the screen, and with practiced ease began exposing every flaw—Jason’s inflated equipnt requisitions, Amanda’s misallocated staffing, and most importantly, the subtle changes in departntal influence that were clearly being rigged.
Silence filled the room.
"Either it’s incompetence," Try One concluded, "or it’s theft. Either way, soone’s failing this organization."
Jason’s face went pale.
Amanda looked like she’d seen a ghost.
Malcolm leaned forward. "And what do you propose?"
Try One smiled with deadly precision. "Put in charge of auditing Departnt 3. Give access for one week. I’ll clean the rot."
Malcolm’s eyes narrowed.
And then, slowly, he nodded.
"Approved."
Try One sat down again, quiet and still. His heart didn’t race. He’d done this before.
But now—for the first ti—it was working.
11:10 a.m. – Departnt 3 Office Floor
Try One moved through the cubicles like a breeze no one noticed until it passed. His new access badge glead. Not many looked twice—just another transfer, they assud.
But he wasn’t here to be noticed.
He was here to plant the seeds of control.
He stopped by Alyssa Monroe’s desk—a quiet analyst who always left early, always avoided conflict. "Alyssa," he greeted softly.
She jumped, surprised. "Yes?"
"I read your last three reports. Your analysis on internal spending patterns was brilliant. I’d like your help digging into sothing more serious."
She blinked. "?"
He smiled. "I’m not interested in titles. I’m interested in talent."
That line—delivered in hundreds of tilines—never failed.
Minutes later, he approached Jamal, the overworked system admin who knew every internal server like the back of his hand.
"I need unfiltered access to archived financial logs," Try One said. "Off the books."
Jamal frowned. "I could lose my job."
"Or you could help make this place honest," Try One replied, handing him a flash drive. "And when I’m in charge, you’ll get the team and budget you’ve always asked for."
Jamal hesitated... then nodded.
Try One wasn’t just collecting data.
He was collecting people.
He knew who was weak, who was honest, who was broken, and who just needed soone to believe in them.
And for the first ti in this tiline, they were following him.
Not because he was loud.
Not because he was important.
But because he was right—and he made them feel seen.
By the end of the day, Try One had access to nearly everything Departnt 3 had hidden.
And the war hadn’t even started yet.
5:55 p.m. – Rooftop of Departnt 3 Headquarters
Try One stood alone on the rooftop, overlooking the city below as the sun began to set. The wind tugged gently at his coat. In the pocket of his jacket was a drive loaded with a decade’s worth of corruption—buried transactions, falsified reports, and chains of manipulated promotions. All of it gathered in one day.
Because this wasn’t his first day.
This was his 21,945th attempt.
Behind him, the access door clicked open. Alyssa stepped out, holding a thermos of coffee. "I figured you’d still be up here."
He nodded without turning. "You believe now, don’t you?"
"I believe sothing’s wrong with this place. And that you’re the only one doing anything about it."
He took the thermos from her. "I’m not the only one. Not anymore."
Inside the building, Jamal was seeding the backup servers with mirrored data—the kind that would outlive any purge order. Others were forwarding files to whistleblowers, flagged under anonymous drop boxes he’d built across a hundred tilines.
Try One didn’t need a revolution.
He needed a quiet coup.
One that would look, from the outside, like fate... or justice... or a natural collapse.
"I’m going to bring them all down," he whispered.
Alyssa hesitated. "And after that?"
He finally turned to her, his eyes sharp, but not cruel. "Then I’ll rebuild it from within. Brick by brick. With people who rember what it ans to be human."
She didn’t say anything.
But she didn’t walk away either.
Below, the lights of Departnt 3 flickered on.
Try One took a deep breath.
Tomorrow, the day would reset.
But tonight—this version of it—was one step closer to the final try.
The try that would change everything.
To be continue...
🌟 Author’s Note 🌟
Hey dear readers! 😊
First of all, thank you so much for sticking with The 100,000th Try. Your support ans the world to , and it’s because of you that this story keeps growing one Chapter at a ti.
I’d love to hear your thoughts and feelings about the story so far! What do you think of Kaen’s journey? Any favorite monts or characters? Your feedback helps improve and keeps inspired to write more for you.
Drop a comnt, leave a review, or even just say hi—every word from you motivates like crazy!
Stay aweso,
– Ani Mastermind ✍️💫
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