The broadcast ended.
The smiling, predatory face of Silas Cross vanished, leaving only the quiet, humming silence of Gideon's hidden lab.
Miles stood frozen, his eyes fixed on the blank screen.
The ultimatum was a block of ice in his gut.
The Crystal for the mentor.
Come to the Cross Corp tower.
Alone.
"Well," his internal monologue whispered, the sarcasm a thin, brittle shield against the crushing weight of the moment.
"That's a very clear, very concise, and very stupid invitation."
"I should RSVP."
"'Dear Mr. Cross, thank you for the lovely invitation to my own capture and probable dissection. I would be delighted to attend. Will there be snacks?'"
He felt a familiar, cold logic begin to settle over him, the system's way of dealing with overwhelming odds.
It presented the facts without emotion, a digital autopsy of his own impending doom.
[ANALYSIS: INFILTRATION OF CROSS CORP TOWER, SOLO.]
[ENVIRONMENT: HOSTILE. EXTREME.]
