Chapter 62
The Iron Reapers' control room never really slept. Even at two in the morning, the place hummed with life.
Towering server racks blinked rhythmically beneath rows of industrial lights. Cooling fans whispered inside steel cabinets while half a dozen monitors displayed surveillance feeds from every entrance to the compound. Another wall had been transformed into a digital battlefield, lines of code racing across multiple screens as encrypted files continued downloading in carefully organised folders.
Coffee cups littered the desks. Pizza boxes from hours earlier sat forgotten beside keyboards.
Neither Wyatt nor Cole had noticed. They hadn't looked away from their screens in almost four hours.
Wyatt leaned back in his chair with a long sigh, rubbing tired eyes before reaching
