Meadow's POV
The room did not feel the same anymore. Nothing had physically changed. The monitors were still glowing. The city still stretched endlessly across the displays. The hum of the systems still filled the silence. But the center of everything had shifted. Before, you had been observing the game. Now, you were inside it.
Your name stayed on the screen, steady and undeniable. TARGET LOCKED. You did not look away from it. Not because you were unafraid, but because looking away would make it real in a different way. This way, you could still study it. Understand it. Stay ahead of it.
Alaric stood close beside you, closer than before, his presence firm and unyielding. You could feel the tension in him, controlled but intense, like he was holding himself back from doing something reckless. "This is not how we play this," he said, his voice low but sharp. "We do not let them dictate the terms." "They are not dictating," you replied calmly. "They are responding."
