Irreversibly.
“That’s not fabricated,” I say, lowering the device. “That’s not misinterpreted. That’s exactly what it looks like.”
One of the council members leans forward slightly, his fingers steepled.
“The implications of this,” he says carefully, “are… extensive.”
“Yeah,” I mutter. “That’s one way to put it.”
“We’ve already initiated internal review protocols,” the first voice adds.
“Too slow,” I cut in.
“It’s already in motion,” he replies.
“So was his operation,” I snap back. “And that was a lot faster.”
The tension spikes, sharper now, less contained.
“You’re suggesting imminent action?” the woman asks.
“I’m not suggesting,” I say. “I’m telling you.”
I pull up the data overlay, projecting the timeline we built, the patterns aligning in stark clarity.
“Look at the escalation curve,” I say, pointing to the sequence. “This isn’t random. This is staged. Controlled breaches leading into larger engagements, each one justifiable on its own until they stack.”
“They were building toward something,” Hrask adds from the side, his voice steady but cutting through the room clean.
Every eye shifts to him for a second.
“And you are?” one of them asks.
“Someone who got far enough inside it to see how it works,” he replies.
I don’t look at him.
I don’t need to.
“They were going to trigger a full-scale escalation,” I continue, pulling the next layer of data into view. “Something big enough that neither side could walk it back once it started.”
The room tightens again.
“And you’re certain of this?” the first voice asks.
I meet his gaze.
“Yeah,” I say. “I am.”
Silence settles.
Heavy.
Deliberate.
Then—
“Commander Driscoll has already been detained,” the woman says.
