The morning light filtered through the Zurich fog, casting a sickly grey pallor over the penthouse. Elea sat at her vanity, the fine bristles of her brush sweeping through her hair with a mechanical rhythm. Her mind, however, was far from the aesthetic requirements of a bride-to-be. On the marble surface before her sat an exquisite, hand-blown glass bottle. It was a vintage perfume decant, delicate and unassuming, yet its contents were a triumph of modern chemical engineering.
She leaned in, her movements precise as she handled a micro-dropper. The substance she added to the rare fragrance was a molecular-level chemical tracker, odorless and colorless. Once misted onto a target, it would bond with organic fibers and skin, emitting a sub-frequency signal detectable only by Eigar’s private
