The next night
The penthouse living room feels less like a luxury apartment and more like a tactical command bunker. Again.
The only illumination in the room comes from the bank of monitors Byte has set up across the coffee table: three screens casting a harsh, electric blue glow over our faces.
Byte sits at the long dining table, noise-canceling headphones resting around his neck. His hands fly across a mechanical keyboard with dizzying speed, bringing up encrypted satellite feeds, local traffic cameras, and a live audio bridge connected directly to the MC’s hidden comms frequency.
Jade sits beside me on the sofa, her knees pulled tight to her chest, her fingernails digging deep into her legs. She hasn't touched the tea I made her an hour ago. Her eyes are wide, unblinking, fixed enti
