The Echo Authority flagged Mara Kade three days later.
Not publicly. Not officially.
Quietly.
Her access privileges slowed—not denied, just delayed. Requests took longer to process. Background systems that once opened instantly now hesitated, as if thinking.
Mara noticed.
She always noticed.
She stood in a corridor she had walked a thousand times before and felt the faintest sensation of resistance, like moving through water instead of air. The lights hummed a fraction of a second out of sync with her steps.
She stopped.
The hum continued.
Then corrected itself.
Mara exhaled slowly.
The system was adapting.
At her console, she pulled up a routine case file. Nothing sensitive. Nothing unusual. She opened the Echo and entered playback.
The memory unfolded normally.
Too normally.
The sensory data was flawless. No gaps. No inconsistencies. Not even the minor distortions common in older recordings.
It was… perfect.
Mara exited the Echo early.
Her pulse thudded in her ears.
It's compensating, she realized.
Where she expected fractures, the system was now reinforcing continuity. Overcorrecting. Smoothing harder.
She had crossed an invisible threshold.