The city hummed beneath the storm, lights flickering across rain-slick streets. Every intersection, every grid of traffic, every digital pulse was part of a pattern, and every pattern had been manipulated by the unseen hand of the fourth vector. Twelve minutes remained before Phase Two would begin, and in the monitoring room, the trio moved with a tense precision that left the air thick with anticipation.
Meadow sat near the console, fingers hovering over the interface, staring at the glowing nodes that now pulsed in synchronized rhythm. Alaric leaned against the wall behind her, arms folded, his dark eyes fixed on the network as if he could somehow read the city's intentions. Dr. Evelyn Ward was quiet in her corner, calm, measured, observing both the data and the other two, a predator assessing her environment.
