Kael Voss had learned not to trust silence.
The apartment building on Jalan Cihampelas had gone quiet three nights ago. Not the ordinary quiet of late hours—no distant motorcycles, no television bleed through thin walls, no couple arguing two floors down. This silence had weight. It pressed against the eardrums like water. Even the refrigerator in his studio unit had stopped its low mechanical complaint. When he opened it that morning, the light still worked. The milk was still cold. But the hum was gone, as if the machine had decided sound was no longer required.
He stood in the kitchen at 2:17 a.m., staring at the blue rectangle floating three inches above the counter.
```
[HOLLOW SYSTEM]
Common Sense Protocol: PARTIALLY DISENGAGED
Local Consensus Integrity: 61%
Recommendation: Do not look at the hallway.
```
Kael did not look at the hallway.
He had made that mistake once.
