Chapter 100 — When Masks Tear
The day began with a small, invisible fracture.
You don't notice those little things at first a word used out of rhythm, a pause where none should be, a relay that breathes a fraction too slowly. You train yourself to catch them because the world you live in rewards the ones who notice the small betrayals before the big ones arrive.
I noticed the fracture in the way my secure line blinked with a message that should not have needed to exist. It began with Silas's quiet voice in the doorway of my office.
"Lucian," he said before I could stand up to meet him. He was steadier than ever; he gave me reports as if they were weather updates. "We have a problem."
I closed the folder in my hand and met him where he stood. "Tell me."
He dropped a tablet onto my desk and tapped once. An array of logs scrolled in columns: timestamps, nodes, relays. To most people it would have been meaningless. To me it was a map of a life I was trying to keep intact.
