The message unfolds in neutral black text against a gray background.
ASSET: FIERSION, KIMBERLY
STATUS: NONCOMPLIANT
RISK CLASSIFICATION: HIGH
NEUTRALIZATION AUTHORIZED
No flourish.
No threats.
No drama.
Just a bureaucratic death sentence rendered in polite corporate syntax.
My vision goes very still around the edges.
“Okay,” I whisper.
The jalshagar coils tighter behind my sternum, a low, dangerous pressure that tastes like iron and electricity.
Kill.
Protect.
Claim.
“No,” I breathe.
I shove the instinct down into its cage and lock it there with a violence that makes my teeth chatter.
“She’s not an asset,” I growl at the empty room. “She’s a person.”
The terminal chirps again.
A different tone this time.
Colder.
Deeper.
Alliance encryption.
My lungs forget how to work.
I bring the feed up with fingers that are suddenly clumsy.
The code handshake alone makes my pulse spike.
Deep-layer tracking protocol.
Not municipal.
Not local enforcement.
Oversight.
