Gary stood with his hands moving across a holographic keyboard projected in front of him, fingers passing through light as command strings updated in real time across the displays.

His posture stayed straight, expression unchanged, eyes scanning data with calm precision.

"Apologies," he replied evenly. "The measures Winter placed were activated."

His hands didn’t stop.

"Due to the UPSDF preparing to launch an operation within the city, all outbound and inbound communication channels have been hard-severed at the system level. Even encrypted frequencies pose a risk under current conditions."

He shifted one hand, pulling up a layered diagram across one of the screens.

"They possess both advanced signal tracing technology and individuals capable of detecting abnormal transmission signatures. Maintaining even a minimal channel increases the probability of detection."

Another command—

The display shifted, showing network nodes branching out, several dimmed completely.

"Winter has implemented a full communication blackout protocol. However," he continued, "she has isolated a fallback method."

He tapped once.

A smaller node lit up.

"She will desynchronize from our internal network, severing all traceable links, then reconnect independently through the Monclaire boy’s system. His network operates on a different structure—far less suspicious under current surveillance parameters."

A brief pause.

"She should be able to re-establish contact with Don once that transition is complete."

Ahead of him—

Trixie sat off to the side.

Or rather—

Slouched.

One leg draped over the arm of the chair, body tilted comfortably as if the situation didn’t concern her in the slightest. Her tail flicked lazily from side to side, tapping lightly against the seat—

tap...tap...~

Her head leaned slightly forward, eyes closed, a few strands of hair stuck awkwardly against her face as she slept, completely removed from the tension in the room. A set of smaller screens hovered in front of her, data scrolling unattended.

At the center—

Elle moved.

Not her body.

Her head.

It snapped.

Turned toward Gary in a single, abrupt motion.

Too fast.

Not natural.

"Why wasn’t I told about this change, Gary?"

Her voice dropped further.

Not louder.

But heavier.

"I told you—anything that has to do with Don..."

A faint distortion rippled outward again, the edges of the screens bending for a split second.

"...I am to be told."

Gary didn’t react.

Didn’t flinch.

His fingers continued moving across the holographic interface as if nothing had changed. Then, with a small motion, he gestured toward the central table.

One of the screens detached from its position and drifted closer to Elle, hovering just above her line of sight.

"These measures were implemented recently," he said calmly. "And due to their nature, they were not logged through standard alert protocols."

His eyes shifted briefly to the data.

"I have only become aware of them upon manually reviewing system changes."

A brief pause.

"I believe Winter enacted the adjustments independently after assessing the situation."

Another input.

"It was by sir Don’s directive that she prioritize our operational safety above all else."

He adjusted his stance slightly.

"Though I will advise her to provide immediate alerts for such modifications in the future—"

"It’s fine!"

Elle cut him off.

The reaction was immediate.

The room—

Didn’t shake.

It skipped.

For a fraction of a second, everything felt misaligned. The screens flickered out of phase, Gary’s perspective shifted as though his position had been displaced and corrected instantly—

bzzt—!

He stilled for half a second.

Then resumed.

Calm.

Unchanged.

But a thought passed through him regardless.

’The young madam seems to be growing more restless as of late... this could be most troubling.’

Elle held her position.

Her gaze hardened forward again, grip tightening further as the alloy beneath her fingers sank deeper, faint creaking sounds coming from the strained material—

krkk—~

"...let me know immediately when we regain communication."

Her voice dropped again.

Lower. 𝗳𝚛𝗲𝕖𝚠𝚎𝚋𝗻𝗼𝕧𝗲𝐥.𝚌𝚘𝐦

And when she spoke the next part—

There was a shift.

"...and have as many minions on standby near Don’s current location."

The softness came through.

Clear.

Even under the layered distortion that followed her words.

This time—

The room reacted harder.

A ripple passed outward—

Not physical—

But enough.

Trixie’s chair tipped.

CLNK—!

It rocked violently before giving out entirely, sending her sideways off the seat—

"—hey!!"

She hit the ground with a thud, limbs scrambling briefly as she pushed herself up, eyes half-lidded with sleep and confusion.

Her hair clung messily across her face as she blinked, trying to process what had just happened.

"Hm... huh? Did something happen?"

Gary didn’t look at her.

"Just a minor technical problem."

Trixie narrowed her eyes, gaze shifting toward Elle. She studied her for a second longer than usual, a faint suspicion settling in her expression.

"...hmm."

She didn’t push it.

Didn’t feel like it.

With a lazy shrug, she pushed herself back up, dragging the chair upright before dropping back into it, adjusting her posture into something equally relaxed.

"If you say so."

Her tail flicked again.

"I’m going back to dream about Don’s tasty meat."

She barely got the words out.

Elle glanced at her.

That was enough.

The chair snapped backward instantly—

CLNK—!

—and tipped over again, sending Trixie crashing to the floor a second time.

"HEY—!!"

Her voice echoed off the walls as she hit, irritation finally breaking through the drowsiness as she pushed herself up again, glaring toward Elle—

Who hadn’t moved.

Not even slightly.

——

Back at the Ebon Crest...

Down below—

The first of the two floors that took the hit still stood.

Barely.

What had once been a wide—open layout, polished flooring, reinforced glass walls—was now a fractured shell held together by something far stronger than it had any right to be.

The alloy beneath the surface had warped but not given in, veins of exposed metal running through broken sections of flooring like ribs forced out into the open.

Chunks of the ceiling had collapsed in uneven slabs, some hanging at angles where support beams had twisted but refused to snap.

Others had dropped entirely, crushing what remained of furniture and pinning bodies beneath them. Fires burned in scattered pockets, crawling along debris where fuel or wiring still fed them—

FSSSSHHH—~

The main entrance to that floor—

Gone.

What remained of it was a jagged opening of torn metal and fractured support bars, bent outward from the force of the explosion.

The stairwell that had once connected this level to the floors below had been reduced to a broken cavity—edges collapsed inward, steps shattered, railing twisted into useless shapes that jutted out at uneven angles.

Smoke rolled through the space in thick layers, clinging low in some places, rising in others where heat pushed it upward in slow currents.

Dust drifted through it, catching faint light from flickering fixtures that still clung to life—

bzzt—...bzzt—~

For a moment—

Nothing moved.

Then—

A tremor.

It didn’t build gradually.

It hit hard.

The entire floor jolted, a blunt and violent shake that rattled what remained of the structure.

Loose debris shifted, smaller fragments skittering across the uneven ground—

A slab of broken ceiling dropped another inch with a dull crack—

KRRK—!

The twisted remains of the stairwell groaned, metal grinding against itself under pressure—

GRNNNNK—~

Then—

It came.

Not a trickle.

Not a scattered rush.

A force.

The horde didn’t emerge in pieces.

It came as one.

Bodies slammed through the ruined stairwell opening in a compressed mass, driven forward by pressure from behind that didn’t allow hesitation, didn’t allow space.

They hit the broken edge of the floor at speed—some catching on the jagged metal, skin tearing open as they forced through—

RIP—!

—but they didn’t stop.

Didn’t even react.

They pushed past it.

Over it.

Through it.

Some stumbled on entry, feet catching on uneven ground or debris, but the ones behind didn’t slow.

They ran into them, over them, stepping on backs, shoulders, heads—forcing forward movement whether the body beneath cooperated or not—

THUD—THUD—SKRR—!

They poured in.