Sophia
By midday, the IT hub felt too small.
Not physically the space was massive, reinforced concrete and steel, screens lining every wall, tables littered with tablets, radios, maps but emotionally. Too many bodies. Too many overlapping conversations. Too much unspent fear.
Danny’s absence pressed against everything.
Oliver stood near the central table, staring at a layered map projected into the air. Patrol routes glowed faint blue. Borders were marked in red. The river line pulsed softly, the last confirmed stretch Danny had run.
Still no movement. Still no signal.
“Say it again,” Zander said, voice low.
One of the scouts swallowed. “We swept the river path twice. Both sides. No blood. No signs of struggle. No scent trail after the border.”
“That’s impossible,” Zander snapped.
