The morning sun over the VanceTech tower was not the golden, peaceful dawn of the previous day. It was interrupted by a low-frequency rumble that rattled the triple-paned reinforced windows of the executive suite—a mechanical, rhythmic pulsing that deepened until the entire building seemed to vibrate.
"What is that?" Elara demanded, standing up from her desk and walking to the panoramic window.
The view was choked by the massive, swirling downwash of air. A military-grade stealth transport helicopter, painted in the matte-black livery of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, was hovering centimeters above the helipad on the roof. The sheer audacity of a direct military landing without clearance or diplomatic protocol sent a jolt of alarm through the office.
"Internal security is asking for identif
