Episode 7: Point of No Return

Zoe’s blood ran cold.

She could only stare at Marcus, unable to form a single word. Her throat tightened.

“No, sir,” she managed, her voice barely a whisper.

“Hoo… I see,” Marcus replied, his expression unchanging. His calm tone felt colder than a block of ice. “Then you may leave now.”

She stood up silently, her legs trembling, and quickly left the room. She was halfway out the door before she felt like she could breathe again.

As she walked down the hall, she could feel Marcus’s eyes watching her, a chilling presence on her back.

When she was out of his sight, her walk became a near run. She reached her desk, grabbed her bag, and slung it over her shoulder without stopping.

She went straight to the lift. When the doors opened, she rushed inside.

A calm, digital voice spoke.

“Which floor, Miss Zoe?”

“Ground, quickly,” she said, her voice urgent.

The lift began its descent, but then it stopped suddenly at the 23rd floor. The doors slid open smoothly.

A guard entered.

“Which floor, Carl?” the lift’s AI asked.

“Ground floor,” he replied. He glanced at the lift’s screen. “How’s your day, Vigil?”

“Nice, Carl,” the AI responded.

The guard, Carl, smiled politely at Zoe. "They're a lot more fun to talk to than people, usually," he said, glancing at the lift's screen. "My name's Carl. I'm 25."

She said nothing, her eyes fixed straight ahead.

Then, a voice came from a small device in Carl’s ear, a message only he could hear.

Zoe’s sharp ears caught his quiet reply.

“Not now, Aegis,” Carl muttered under his breath.

Her eyes darted to his earpiece, her confusion twisting into a cold dread.

The lift finally reached the ground floor. The moment the doors opened, she walked toward the exit without looking back, her pace quick and determined.

As soon as Zoe was gone, Carl gave the command.

“Show me, Aegis.”

A blue hologram screen appeared in front of him. It showed Zoe’s face, her name, her job, and her home address.

Below the image, a single line of text flashed in bright red.

WANTED NOW.

Carl looked up from the screen, but the lobby was empty. She was already gone.

“Shit! My job was…” he said, his voice filled with the sudden, tense realization of his failure.

Just as she came out of the building, Zoe ripped the small earpiece device—her company AI, Echo—from her ear and threw it into a nearby dustbin.

She took a different, smaller device from her bag and attached it to the back of her other ear. She touched it gently. A private hologram screen appeared.

Without breaking her stride, she booked a taxi to Kael’s home.

Within five minutes, a taxi came to a stop, hovering seven inches above the road. The door slid open.

She got inside. The door slid shut with a soft hiss, and the taxi started moving. She leaned back against the seat, and a shaky breath finally escaped her lips. The tension in her shoulders began to melt away as the silent cabin became a temporary sanctuary.

But the feeling didn't last. A cold dread crept back into her bones.

Her mind replayed the last fifteen hours on a loop. How did they find out?

There were no digital fingerprints. No trace she had ever opened that file. Or so she thought. A fresh wave of panic washed over her.

Then the taxi neared his house.

A knot of dread twisted in her stomach. Her blood ran cold.

Two guards stood outside Kael’s open door.

In an instant, her mind pieced it all together. The company’s security team had already arrived. They had found him.

“Don’t stop,” she told the robotic car, her voice urgent. “Keep going.”

The taxi crossed the street. As it passed, Zoe got a clear view. The guards were inside Kael’s home, searching it from top to bottom.

She reached forward and put in a new destination.

“Stop at the next block,” she commanded, her voice low and sharp.

The taxi pulled over. She got out and walked back, using a small path to get to the back of a building directly across the street from Kael’s house.

She was hidden there, watching the guards. Every thought was a plan. Every breath a calculation.

She was so focused on the scene across the street that she forgot where she was.

 A firm, cold hand landed on her shoulder.