The door of the limousine hissed shut, sealing away the clamour of the gala and the incandescent rage of Mark Kross. I leaned back against the plush leather, the faint hum of the engine a soothing counterpoint to the thrumming power within me. Elaine sat opposite, her expression a peculiar blend of concern and intellectual fascination.
"Everything go to plan?" she asked, her voice low, a hint of steel beneath the question.
"Perfectly," I replied, a profound sense of calm washing over me. On the glowing screen of my Monolith terminal, a tiny green dot pulsed steadily, emanating from Mark Kross's exact location in the ballroom. Tracker: Active. Data Stream: Initiated, the Genesis System chimed internally, its voice imbued with a cold, absolute satisfaction. Target acquisition: 100%.
"He’l
