The service corridor swallowed sound.
Jessica and Micah moved quickly but not loudly, their footsteps
softened by the raw concrete beneath them. The air here lacked the
sterile illusion of the waiting room __ no polished floors, no
comforting signage, no attempt to mimic a hospital.
This was infrastructure.
The place behind the place.
Jessica's lungs burned as she forced herself to slow down. Panic
made noise. Noise drew attention.
And attention drew the Collector.
Behind them, somewhere past the sealed door, she could still feel it
__ not footsteps exactly, but a pressure that bent the atmosphere.
Like gravity shifting direction.
Micah finally spoke, voice low.
"Do you still feel it?"
"Yes."
It wasn't a countdown this time.
It was focus.
The system had stopped observin
