[Camp Alpha, Inner Stadium / Sector One Residential | Year 3 Post-Collapse, 0747 hours]
The vault released us.
Behind, Voss was a smear of pressed uniform against the reinforced back wall of his ruined booth, every color drained out of his face, one hand pressed flat against his chest like he was trying to hold something in. The hydraulic transaction drawer sat folded in half on the counter. He didn't move. He didn't call out. The Intimidation passive had done exactly what it was designed to do, and the man's nervous system was still catching up to the logic of staying very, very still.
