In the year 2231, fashion was no longer just fabric and aesthetics— it was biology.

Style was encoded into DNA, woven into sequences that determined everything: your aura colors, the shimmer in your hair, the way your presence filled a room. Entire social classes were formed not around wealth or breeding, but around genetic design.

And Blair Waldorf? She was the most sought-after strategist in the world.

Her mind was as sharp as ever, but now she played a new game: advising the elite on how to optimize their genetic style profiles for political advantage, social dominance, and—of course—flawless presentation.

You were her assistant, newly hired and already overwhelmed.

The design chamber glowed with holographic helixes hovering in the air. Blair stood in the center, her silhouette perfectly outlined in soft gold light. She wore a fitted suit embroidered with living nanofibers that shifted patterns when she moved—an impossible blend of elegance and power.

She didn’t even turn when you walked in. “You’re late, Y/N,” she said calmly. “In a world where DNA determines influence, time is the only thing that still behaves traditionally.”

“I—sorry. I was reviewing the client’s genome sheet.”

Blair finally looked at you, dark eyes piercing. “And? Your analysis?”

You held up your wrist tablet. “Their genetic style is powerful, but… unstable. If they activate the full chromatic bloom sequence, it could overwhelm the council.”

Blair smirked. “Good. We want them overwhelmed.”

She stepped closer, examining the holographic DNA strand spinning beside you. Her fingers danced through the projection, rearranging entire blocks of genetic material like she was crafting a couture dress.

“You can’t just rely on raw design,” she lectured. “Strategy is everything. A perfect genome means nothing without the perfect moment to unveil it.”

You swallowed, nodding in fascination. “You really think of this like a chess match, don’t you?”

Blair gave a soft laugh. “Please. Chess is child’s play compared to style.”

The doors slid open and your client—a nervous diplomat—stepped inside. Blair transformed instantly.

Graceful. Cool. Unassailable.

“Stand still,” she commanded, circling the client like a scientist studying a rare specimen. “Your genetic palette is outdated. Your aura tone needs softening. And for the love of the stars—stop wearing those boots.”