In the ten-block radius around the bait zone, things had already started to bend.
Not all at once.
Not in a way that would trip any alerts or set off security audits.
Just little things, slow things: power readings flickering half a notch lower than usual, traffic lights re-synced to different intervals, and a few maintenance drones pulled from their usual rounds. Nothing drastic. Nothing dramatic.
But if someone was watching closely—if someone really knew what to look for—they might have noticed the paths beginning to clear.
A path for someone to walk straight into a zone that shouldn't have been unguarded.
And even then, if they noticed, they'd probably think it was luck.
They'd be wrong.
Upstairs, the war room had emptied. One by one, the board members had filed out, their orders tucked into memory, their roles already clicking into motion.
But the Director hadn't moved.
