Clean.
Efficient.
Disconnected.
Everything automated.
Doors. Surveillance. Environmental control.
No guards where machines will do.
No redundancy where certainty is assumed.
I move deeper, senses adjusting to the rhythm of the building.
Because that’s what this is—
A system pretending to be a fortress.
And systems have one fatal flaw.
They don’t improvise.
My hand brushes the wall as I pass.
Feeling the vibration beneath it.
The flow.
The structure.
Mapping it in real time.
Because when something this controlled breaks—
It doesn’t crack.
It cascades.
Everywhere.
84
Jase Dalton
Location: Lower Level
Time: Same
“Contact,” I whisper.
Three of them.
Spread across the corridor like they know what they’re doing.
Angles covered.
Spacing tight.
