Vania’s footsteps echoed softly against the wet sidewalk. The rain had just stopped, leaving behind the sharp scent of damp earth and asphalt. The clock on her wrist read eleven fifteen at night. She had just left the office after a long meeting that gave her no peace of mind—only added weight pressing down on her thoughts.

Her mind kept circling back to one thing: the evidence Arga had shown her. The original system logs that could clear her name—but if exposed, could also ignite a devastating war.

“Why does everything feel like a trap?” she muttered under her breath, pulling her coat tighter. “If I stay silent, I’ll be...