Orange.
Dark, warning orange.
"Sixty-three confirmed subjects," he says. His voice is flat. Empty. "Approximately forty percent survival rate. All survivors are permanently paralyzed."
I stare at the screen.
At the clinical data.
At the cold, detached language describing torture and murder.
"This is genocide," I say.
"Yes."
"This is a fucking extinction protocol."
"Yes."
Kael's voice cuts through the speakers.
"Cyprian. You need to see this."
Another file opens.
DEPLOYMENT SCHEDULE
LOCATION: OBSIDIAN AEGIS HEADQUARTERS - PERIMETER ZONE
DEVICE TYPE: AEROSOLIZED DISPERSAL UNIT
ACTIVATION DATE: [REDACTED]
ESTIMATED COVERAGE RADIUS: 500 METERS
PROJECTED CASUALTIES: 200-300 NON-HUMAN STONE-BASED ENTITIES
The room goes silent.
Completely, absolutely silent.
I look at Cyprian.
His amber veins are flickering rapidly now.
Gold to orange.
Orange to gold.
His jaw is locked.
His hands are clenched into fists on the desk.
"They're targeting us," I say.
"Yes."
"They're going to deploy it here."
