They worked in the place provided by Giselle. The first few days under Giselle's guidance were like stepping into a military camp.
Gone were the flexible brainstorming sessions and relaxed planning Aruna loved. In their place were rigid schedules, KPIs, deadlines each meeting more suffocating than the last.
"Focus, focus, focus," Giselle repeated like a mantra, her sharp voice slicing through the office whenever Aruna's mind wandered during discussions.
At first, Aruna tried to stay patient. She bit her tongue, clenching her fists under the table whenever Giselle interrupted her ideas with curt, dismissive remarks. She told herself it was for Veloria's future.
But the cracks started to show.
It began one Friday evening, during a meeting about refining their platform's core curriculum.
"I think we should include modules that also teach creative problem solving," Aruna suggested, her eyes bright with enthusiasm. "Not just technical skills. Innovation is just as important"
"No," Giselle cut her off without even looking up from her laptop. "Stick to market demand. Companies pay for technical proficiency. Creativity is a luxury."
Aruna froze, feeling the sting of being dismissed so casually. "But that's what sets Veloria apart," she argued, trying to keep her voice steady. "We're not just another skills factory."
Giselle finally looked up, her gaze cold and unyielding. "You're thinking like an artist, not a businesswoman. If you want Veloria to survive, you need to stop chasing ideals and start delivering what the market actually wants."
The tension in the room grew so thick it was hard to breathe.
Reza coughed awkwardly, glancing between them. Naya stared down at her notes, avoiding eye contact.
Aruna's jaw tightened. Every instinct in her screamed to fight back, to defend the dream they had nurtured from the very beginning. But another, quieter voice whispered: You can't afford to lose her.
So she swallowed the words burning on her tongue and said nothing.
For now.
The unease bled into everything over the next few days.
Meetings became battlegrounds. Aruna found herself second-guessing her ideas before she even spoke, afraid Giselle would shoot them down without a second thought. She could feel the team's energy shifting too Reza growing more cautious, Naya looking increasingly anxious.
And then, it happened the first real disaster.
They had a critical product demo scheduled with a potential corporate partner, a deal that could validate Veloria's entire concept. Giselle, believing Aruna's pitch style was "too emotional," had insisted on completely overhauling their presentation stripping away the story-driven elements and replacing them with cold, hard data points.
Against her better judgment, Aruna agreed.
And it flopped.
The corporate representatives sat through the presentation looking bored, unimpressed, and ultimately unconvinced. When they left, they did so with polite handshakes and vague promises to "keep in touch," the universal death sentence of startup deals.
Afterward, in the empty conference room, the air hung heavy with failure.
"I told you," Aruna burst out, slamming her notebook onto the table. "You killed what made Veloria Veloria!"
Giselle didn't flinch. She stood there, arms crossed, calm as ever. "No. You failed to adapt. The world doesn't care about your feelings, Aruna. It cares about results."
Aruna took a step closer, trembling with fury. "Maybe the world doesn't but we do. That's why people will care about us. That's why Veloria even exists."
For the first time, something flickered across Giselle's composed face was it frustration? Disappointment? It was gone before Aruna could be sure.
"You have potential," Giselle said quietly, almost like she was speaking to herself. "But you're still clinging to childish ideals."
"Better than selling out and becoming another soulless tech factory," Aruna shot back.
Reza stepped between them before things could escalate further. "Enough," he said, voice firm but weary. "We're on the same side. Remember?"
Silence.
Aruna felt her heart pounding in her ears. She realized then that this wasn't going to be the clean, inspiring journey she had dreamed of. It was going to be messy, painful, and full of compromises she wasn't sure she was ready to make.
Later that night, sitting alone in the tiny shared office they called their headquarters, Aruna stared at the wall of sticky notes and sketches they had once proudly put up.
Was this still their dream?
Or had it already started slipping away into something else?
She buried her head in her hands.
We can't lose ourselves. No matter how hard it gets.
But deep down, she knew the road ahead was only going to get harder.