The car glided away from the manor on silent shocks, windows tinted against the early-morning glare. Inside it smelled faintly of leather, coffee, and Victor. A tray between the seats held two croissants and a thermos, but Elias ignored it for now; the tablet balanced on his knees was heavier than it looked.
He flicked through the files Victor had dumped into his inbox overnight. The first was the project he'd been living with for months, now neatly repackaged with Numen Corp branding and a full budget. Two more folders blinked beneath it: new research proposals, one flagged priority, the other confidential. Victor's idea of a gentle introduction.
Elias's eyelids still felt like sandpaper. He scrolled, lips moving soundlessly over the acronyms, and wondered whether it would be physically possible to roll down the window and tumble out onto the verge without breaking every bone in his body. Anything to get back to the warm bed and his forgotten mug of coffee.
