A Coalition soldier stands a few meters back, his posture rigid in a way that doesn’t match casual patrol.
Watching.
“Just passing time,” I say, brushing my hand off against my thigh like I’ve picked up dust instead of evidence.
“Do it somewhere else.”
“Why?” I ask, tilting my head slightly as I take a step toward him. “This spot special?”
His gaze hardens, and the air between us thickens just enough to make it clear I’ve stepped closer to something I’m not supposed to.
“Move,” he says.
I hold his stare for a moment longer, letting the silence stretch before I give a small shrug and step back.
“Relax,” I say, turning away. “Didn’t realize this corridor had a personality.”
“It doesn’t,” he replies.
“Could’ve fooled me.”
I walk off without rushing, letting my footsteps echo just enough to sound normal, but I don’t go far. The next corridor loops back, and I take it without hesitation, cutting through a darker stretch where the lighting dips and the vibration of the systems masks quieter movement.
When I come back around, I approach from a different angle, keeping low enough that I stay out of direct sight.
The soldier is still there, but his attention has shifted outward now, focused on the main corridor instead of the ground.
That gives me the opening I need.
I move closer, my gaze snapping back to the marks I saw earlier, following their direction this time instead of just confirming their existence.
That’s when I see it.
A smear along the base of the wall, darker than the surrounding metal, uneven in a way that doesn’t match anything mechanical.
I reach out, brushing my fingers lightly against it.
Dry.
Not oil.
Not rust.
Blood.
My jaw tightens as I follow the trail, my eyes tracking where it leads.
The smear stretches unevenly, broken in places where whatever—or whoever—was dragged shifted or resisted, the pattern messy in a way that confirms this wasn’t controlled.
It leads straight toward the restricted corridor.
Of course it does.
The same kind of reinforced door I saw earlier stands at the far end, guarded, sealed, and completely out of place in a section that’s supposed to be routine maintenance.
I don’t get closer.
I don’t need to.
