Menopausal Fury: Wall Street Apocalypse

Exploring Void Capabilities

Emergency lighting cast jagged shadows in the corridors, and the smell of burnt ends and sweat condensed into suspended particles visible to the naked eye. The flat screens of the committee representatives reflected the wires dangling from the ceiling like a swarm of rigid snakes. The knot in Rogers' throat slid as he swallowed back a half-sentence, the electronic tablet having been brought up to the tip of his nose, the glass screen surface displaying the curve of a real-time falling global index.

"The damage assessment can wait." The representative's voice was like sandpaper grinding through metal, "We'll start by identifying the source of the anomalous energy." His metal-like pupils turned to Diana, "You have the manual backup?"

Diana's knuckles tightened, the edges of her leather notebook choking into her palm." It is. But it requires a decryption terminal." She deliberately ignored the subtle static tingle in her pocket-the sensation was creeping up her spine, like something alive was wriggling under the fabric.

Mark snorted suddenly, "A terminal? Look around! Even the water fountain is sparking!" He kicked away the remains of melted plastic at his feet, "You guys should check to see if the power supply is hooked up to a lightning storm."

"All the fluctuations are originating on the trading floor." The representative slid the tablet and called up a three-dimensional energy map. The indigo halo was focused on the area of Diana's earlier workstation, overlapping perfectly with the residual image left on her retina." Supervisor Rogers, your report mentioned ... Static electricity phenomenon?"

The air conditioning outlet suddenly spewed out black smoke that smelled like copper. The alarm whined twice in a jerky manner before falling completely silent.

"The ventilation system is finished." Rogers pressed a cuff against the sweat at the corner of his forehead, "Is the committee considering evacuation?"

"The lockdown is maintained until the traceability is complete." The people in black behind the delegate adjusted their stance at the same time, the heels of their riot boots striking a neat knock." Ms. Crane, please display the backup data."

Diana deliberately let her fingers tremble as she unbuttoned her uniform. The laptop was removed moments later, electric sparks running between the pages making brief scorch marks in the dim air." Decryption requires network access." She noticed the delegate's pupils contract sharply into pinpricks.

"There are still isolated servers in Sector B." Rogers was just about to raise his hand to indicate the direction when all the emergency lights suddenly strobed like disco balls. The detector at the waist of some black-clad man beeped shrilly as dark shadows jumped frantically across the walls.

"Readings breaching threshold!" The man in black raised an instrument shaped like a firearm and aimed it at the ventilation duct, "Non-ionizing radiation pulses, frequency matching neuronal activity!"

Mark yanked his tie away violently, "I knew it! It's not even a circuit problem-"

"Maintain order!" The rep interrupted sternly, but the tablet slipped from his hands, cushioned by Diana's subconsciously outstretched toes before touching the ground. The screen settled on the push screen of the NYSE meltdown announcement, the time stamp indicating that only seventeen minutes had passed since the first anomaly.

The leather cover unintentionally grazed the screen as Diana bent to pick up the tablet. The stream of data suddenly backed up into the bottom of the glass, reorganizing the options code she'd handwritten this morning." It seems..." She slowly straightened up, "There's no need to decrypt the terminal."

The fingers representing the retrieved device froze for half a second. The indigo halo on the energy map was forming a vortex centered on Diana." All personnel take five steps back." He gestured tactically and the men in black simultaneously drew the suppressor devices at their belts, "Ms. Crane, please hand over all paper records immediately."

"On what grounds?" Mark stepped between the two, "She's the only one who kept the data!"

"On the basis of three minutes ago." The representative turned the tablet to the crowd, and the security feed showed all the black screen monitors on the empty trading floor suddenly lighting up on their own, scrolling through the numbers on Diana's laptop." These numbers are rewriting the Singapore futures market's list price in real time."

Diana's fingertips rubbed the edges of the pages. The smell of burnt paste was suddenly covered by some kind of fresh ozone scent, and she heard the humming rushing through her veins forming a chorus with the alarms of the distant exchange. A more complex matrix of numbers surfaced deep in her retina - they were no longer records, but instructions waiting to be executed.

"Give me three hours." She heard her voice as if through a curtain of water, "I can reconstruct the full ledger."

As the delegate exchanged glances with Rogers, there was the thin sound of cracking concrete from somewhere in the ceiling." Two hours." The representative finally gave in, "But only if you work within the confines of the suppression force field." The men in black quickly set up a semi-circular device, a blue light fence enveloping Diana.

When the last technician was cleared, Mark lent a hand with his coffee against the edge of the force field." You can't fool them." He lowered his voice, "Those numbers are dancing in your eyes."

Diana let the coffee cup conduct static on her fingertips." Southwest corner storage room." She dipped into the spilled liquid and drew a matrix on the tabletop, "Fire drill surveillance blind spot. One hour out."

Mark's pupils plummeted. He glimpsed Diana's handwritten numbers were auto-correcting the erroneous transaction records on the tablet, like an invisible hand tampering with reality." Jesus... What the hell have you turned into?"

"Changed?" Diana raised the corners of her mouth for the first time, "I think it's more like... Waking up."

The representative suddenly tapped on the outer wall of the force field, "Progress?"

"Benchmark index calibration complete." Diana pushed away from the tablet. The Dow Jones curve on the screen was repairing itself against the laws of physics, each correction corresponding to a subtle displacement of the ink on her notebook. She wiped away the nosebleed as she pretended to rub her eyes, the fishy-sweet smell mingling with the growing beeping in her ear canal.

Diana happened to close her notebook when Rogers returned with the good news of partially restored power." There are forty-seven inconsistencies between the raw data and the system logs." She deliberately let her voice tinge with exhaustion, "Recommend prioritizing verification of cross-market arbitrage orders."

The representative frowned as she flipped through the list of contradictory points - all timestamped to correspond to the exact moment of Diana's superpower outburst." The tech team will follow up." He signaled to disengage the force field, "The committee needs to hear you alone..."

The alarm suddenly hissed at a whole new frequency. All the lights turned a piercing scarlet color, and the popping sound of overloaded cables came from within the walls. The radiation detector on the delegate's belt went straight to black.

"Another power supply problem?" Mark held onto the swaying partition panel with feigned composure.

Diana pressed her wildly throbbing temples. She saw her own reflection distorted and stretched on the black flat screen, her pupils indigo glowing as brightly as her breath. The storage room appointment was being swallowed up by beeps, but there was a stronger sense of foreboding-something had woken up first.

The delegate wiped the fire extinguisher foam that had splashed his face, "All retreat to the shelter!"

Diana grabbed Mark's wrist as the crowd pushed in. She opened and closed her lips noiselessly in the air as the ozone concentration plummeted: the plan was ahead of schedule.

As the corner surveillance probe flashed red, she heard the rhythm of fingernails scraping metal from deep within the ventilation ducts-three long and two short, identical to the code words she'd invented as a child fleeing domestic abuse.