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Every abstraction—
Every distance between action and consequence—
Gone.
Stripped away.
I’m not watching data anymore.
I’m watching truth.
And for the first time—
There’s nowhere left to stand that isn’t mine.
90
Aaron
Kade’s phone starts ringing.
Once.
Twice.
Then—
again.
And again.
A cascade of sound.
Different tones. Different lines.
All converging on the same moment.
He stares at it like it’s something alive.
Something turning on him.
Which, in a way—
it is.
He looks smaller now.
Not physically.
Structurally.
Like the architecture that held him up—
just collapsed.
His eyes flick to the door.
To the windows.
