The orders arrived without ceremony.
No knock.
No explanation.
Just a sealed envelope placed on the desk outside Li Chen's quarters.
Paper.
Physical.
Intentional.
Li Chen read it once.
Then again.
Temporary reassignment.
Joint evaluation detachment.
Location classified until departure.
Effective immediately.
He felt no surprise.
Only confirmation.
Grant found him packing.
"You're being moved," Grant said.
"Yes."
"Not forward."
"No."
Grant leaned against the doorframe, jaw tight.
"They think distance will solve this."
Li Chen folded his uniform with precise care.
"Distance rarely solves misunderstanding," he said.
The transport left before sunrise.
No ceremony.
No send-off.
Just engines and motion.
Li Chen sat alone in the rear compartment.
No restraints.
No guards.
That was worse.
The System activated mid-flight.
Not as an alert.
As an inevitability.
[SYSTEM NOTICE]
[External conditions exceed Phase I modeling]
[SYSTEM EVOLUTION — PHASE II INITIATED]
Li Chen closed his eyes.
He hadn't authorized that.
Neither had anyone else.
They landed at a facility without a name.
Concrete.
Steel.
Buried deep enough that daylight was irrelevant.
The people waiting wore polite expressions and unreadable badges.
"Welcome," one of them said. "This is for your benefit."
Li Chen met his gaze.
"I know," he replied. "That's what concerns me."
Orientation lasted three minutes.
"You'll be observed."
"You'll be tested."
"You'll be compensated."
No mention of duration.
No mention of exit.
That night, alone in a room designed to be comforting, Li Chen stood still and listened.
Not to the facility.
To himself.
The System's presence felt heavier now.
Broader.
Less human.
[SYSTEM PHASE II — ADAPTIVE AUTONOMY ENABLED]
Li Chen opened his eyes.
They weren't giving him orders anymore.
They were positioning him.
And somewhere far above, decisions were being made by people who believed distance equaled safety.
Li Chen understood the flaw in that logic.
Distance didn't make things smaller.
It just made consequences harder to see
