The big screen stayed black all afternoon. Lin Lan managed to get mission alerts back on her tablet and rerouted unit messages through backups, but the main screen in the ready room was still dead, only flickering with static now and then. Nobody trusted it anymore.
Mu Chen sat at the table, fiddling with supply slips he didn't really need to sort, just to keep his hands busy. Across the room, Zhou Xiao loitered by the entrance, pretending to check access logs. Ye Fan was slouched against the far wall, arms crossed, saying nothing. The silence in the room felt wrong. It wasn't peaceful. It was a tense, waiting kind of quiet.
Then, the kettle in the corner clicked on by itself.
Everyone looked over. Zhou Xiao scowled. "Tell me that's normal."
Lin Lan didn't even look up from her tablet. "It isn't."
The kettle heated for about three seconds, clicked off, and then clicked back on. A chill ran down Mu Chen's spine. Ye Fan instantly pushed off the wall. Lin Lan moved to the kitchen corner and yanked the kettle's plug out completely. Still, the little indicator light blinked one more time.
"I hate this," Zhou Xiao grumbled.
Luo Wei's office door opened. "Report."
"Random activation in kitchen appliances," Lin Lan responded instantly. "No local trigger."
Luo Wei's face tightened. "Cameras?"
Lin Lan checked. "Running. But the feed's got a delay."
Mu Chen looked up. "How bad?"
Lin Lan's fingers flew across the screen. "A two-second lag."
The room went dead still. Someone was listening. Maybe watching too, and fiddling with the timing just enough to catch whatever happened before anyone on the floor could actually see it.
Ye Fan's expression turned icy. "Find the source."
Lin Lan shot him a look. "Obviously."
Mu Chen slowly got up from the table. The quiet in the room had shifted again. It wasn't just tense anymore. It felt… occupied. Not by a person, but by attention. He walked over to the water station and stopped. A faint sound came from overhead. *Click.* Not the lights. Not the vents. A mic opening.
Mu Chen looked up. The ceiling panel near the center of the ready room shifted almost imperceptibly, then settled back into place. Zhou Xiao spotted it too. "Nope." He backed away from the middle of the room like the floor itself had become suspect.
Luo Wei entered the ready room fully, her gaze flicking upward once before she turned to Lin Lan. "Audio capture?"
Lin Lan's face was unnervingly calm. "Likely."
Ye Fan's voice dropped. "For this floor only?"
Lin Lan didn't answer immediately. That was answer enough. Mu Chen's stomach tightened. Not because the institute was listening. But because suddenly, every hushed conversation in this room flashed back to him. Every late warning. Every significant look. Every near-confession. Someone listening changed all of it.
Luo Wei made a swift decision. "No names. No private discussions. Assume live capture until proven otherwise."
"That's really not improving my mood," Zhou Xiao muttered.
Luo Wei ignored him. "Lin Lan, shut down whatever local access you can. Captain Zhou, hall watch. Major Ye Fan—"
A sharp burst of static cut through the room. The black wall screen flickered to life. Not with the usual feed, but with audio waveforms. Three white lines moving on black. Listening. No text this time. No explanation. Just clear evidence that sound in the room was being picked up and processed somewhere else.
Mu Chen felt a cold dread wash over him. Ye Fan reacted before anyone else. He crossed the room in three strides and yanked the power cable from the wall screen. The screen died. For a single second, nobody breathed. Then Luo Wei said, very calmly, "Major."
Ye Fan turned. Mu Chen could feel the anger radiating off him – not loud or explosive, but deep, making the whole room feel smaller. "They're not recording this room like a kennel," Ye Fan stated.
Luo Wei held his gaze. "And now they know you know."
Ye Fan's jaw clenched.
"Too late," Lin Lan said without looking up. "They wanted that."
Silence. Mu Chen understood immediately. The kettle. The lag. The waveform display. It was a power play. Not just observation, but a reminder that privacy here was fleeting at best.
Zhou Xiao let out a slow breath. "So, what now?"
Lin Lan glanced at her tablet. "Now they wait to see if we panic."
Mu Chen kept his face calm, but his fingers tightened on the edge of the water station. Someone listening. It made his skin crawl because he got the point. Not data. Power. Make them lower their voices. Make them hesitate. Make every glance and touch feel riskier.
"Then we don't panic," Luo Wei said.
Ye Fan gave a short, sharp laugh. "That's becoming a habit around here."
Luo Wei's eyes flickered to Mu Chen for a split second, then back to Ye Fan. "Hold your line, Major." Mu Chen understood the unspoken message beneath her words. Not just the room. Not just the institute. Them. Ye Fan clearly understood too; his expression gave nothing away.
Lin Lan finally looked up from her tablet. "I can't remotely disable the ceiling mic. It's tied into a higher clearance."
"Can we break it?" Zhou Xiao asked.
"No," Luo Wei and Lin Lan said in unison. Zhou Xiao held up his hands. "Just asking."
The room settled into a new rhythm after that. Nobody said more than necessary. Nobody crossed the center of the ready room without glancing up first. Even the silence changed, becoming deliberate, trimmed at the edges. Mu Chen returned to the table and sat.
A few minutes later, Ye Fan walked across the room and stopped beside him. Too close for comfort, but not close enough to complain about. He placed a folded note next to Mu Chen's hand. Paper. Real paper. Then he walked away without a word.
Mu Chen stared at it for a second before unfolding it under the table, out of sight. Three words. *Don't speak here.* Mu Chen looked up. Ye Fan was back by the far wall, arms crossed, his face unreadable. But his eyes were on Mu Chen.
Someone listening. Fine. Then they would have to learn the more dangerous truth: Silence could hide things too.