The interrogation room was cold, sterile, and windowless.
Michael stood on one side of the reinforced glass, watching Marcus on the other. The man who had created everything—the Architect, the Phoenix system, the Foundation's most advanced projects—sat calmly in a metal chair, his hands cuffed to the table. He looked like a retired professor, not the mastermind behind a global conspiracy.
But appearances were deceiving. Michael had learned that lesson long ago.
Clarice was beside him, her laptop open, her fingers hovering over the keyboard. She'd been analyzing Marcus's data for hours, trying to find any trace of the other projects he'd mentioned. So far, she'd found nothing.
"He's good," she said. "Really good. Whatever he's hidden, he's hidden it deep."
"Then we need to get him to t
