Fund

What if your employer wasn't just extracting your labor—but your capacity to feel?The Fund follows Korey Bratt, a graduate student whose unpublished thesis on the sacred architecture of markets earns him an offer from Schwarz & Kollm, Est. 1697—a firm older than the country, older than the Stock Exchange, and far older than the legal system that should govern it. The compensation is exceptional. The benefits are real. The contract, signed before Korey fully understands what he's agreed to, is something else entirely.What follows is a forensic descent into a system that doesn't just profit from human emotion—it harvests, archives, and resells it. Fear. Grief. Guilt. The memory of a mother's hand on a first day of school. All tradeable. All priced. All extracted with surgical precision from analysts who believe they are building careers while the firm quietly dismantles who they are.The Fund is a supernatural financial thriller rooted in a simple, devastating proposition: the institutions we serve don't just shape us—they consume us. The trading floor is a ritual space. The employment contract is a covenant. The performance review is a soul audit. And the twelve analysts arranged in a perfect circle around Schwarz & Kollm's obsidian trading floor are not colleagues. They are a cohort, bred from bloodlines the firm has been cultivating for three centuries.Korey's resistance—and the love that anchors it—is not sentimentality. It is the only variable the system's models cannot account for. But refusal has a cost. And some prices are paid not by the person who refuses, but by everyone they love.The Fund asks what it means to remain human inside a machine designed to make humanity profitable. It does not offer easy answers. It offers something rarer: a story that takes the question seriously.