Everything I need is already here.
Whatever happened to Tury?—
It didn’t end clean.
I pull back before the guard has a reason to turn, retracing my steps with the same controlled pace I came in with, my mind already moving ahead of me.
Unauthorized contact.
Flagged.
Pulled from rotation.
And now blood on the floor leading to a door nobody wants to talk about.
That’s not reassignment.
That’s containment.
By the time I step back onto the surface, the heat feels sharper than before, like it’s trying to burn away what I just saw. The air scrapes against my throat, dry and unforgiving, and the fence hums steady, unchanged, like nothing underneath it is wrong.
She’s there.
Exactly where she should be.
I don’t wait this time.
I close the distance to the fence, the vibration intensifying as I step up to it.
“We’ve got a problem,” I say, my voice low but firm.
Her head turns immediately, her gaze locking onto mine with that same sharp focus.
“That’s not new,” she replies.
“This is,” I say, holding her attention.
She steps closer, reading something in my expression that I’m not bothering to hide.
“What happened?” she asks.
“I tracked one of the units from Tury’s sector,” I say. “Their route doesn’t match their logs.”
Her posture tightens.
“Explain.”
“I found signs of a struggle,” I continue, watching her reaction closely. “Fresh. Near a restricted corridor.”
Her eyes narrow, her focus sharpening.
“How fresh?”
“Recent enough that it hasn’t been cleaned properly,” I say.
“What kind of signs?” she presses.
I hold her gaze.
