(Trama Log_000010 – System stabilization protocol activated. Subject Hartmann removed from anomaly perimeter.)

  11:04 PM – The Disappearance

  Tariq heard the alarm first.

  A sharp, artificial wail that fractured the silence like a blade through glass.

  Then, Lorenz was gone.

  It wasn't a struggle.

  No resistance.

  Just a moment of presence, then absence.

  Tariq turned sharply—the space where Lorenz had stood was empty.

  Only the fading echo of boots in the corridor remained.

  His heartbeat did not quicken.

  His body did not lurch forward.

  But inside, something shifted.

  Something he refused to name.

  (Trama Log_000010 – Subject Nasser's physiological markers slightly elevated. Evaluating emotional response...)

  Then, Fuchur's voice slipped into his mind.

  Soft. Commanding.

  — "Do what she wants."

  Tariq exhaled slowly.

  And waited.

  They arrived in silence.

  Not guards. Not standard security.

  Generals.

  A presence of power, but without force.

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  Tariq glanced up as they entered, taking in the subtle cues—precision in their movements, deliberation in their posture.

  One of them stepped forward, tall, statuesque, sharp in every way that mattered.

  Her voice was measured, unwavering.

  — "The Chancellor is waiting."

  Tariq nodded once.

  Then, he followed.

  Elena stood before the glass interface, adjusting the small vial in her hand.

  Her expression was calm, almost maternal.

  Tariq took in the room, the arrangement, the details.

  A **steel table. A single chair. A containment chamber in the corner—**not for him, but for something else.

  Inside, curled into itself, was a mouse.

  Not ordinary.

  Its fur shimmered with an iridescence that suggested modification, adaptation.

  It was unnatural.

  And yet—it was alive.

  Elena did not turn to greet him.

  She finished measuring the liquid in the syringe, tapping it twice before setting it aside.

  — "I've been monitoring anomalies in the Trama."

  Her voice was even. Unrushed.

  — "Every significant fluctuation has traced back to a singular variable."

  She looked at him now.

  — "You."

  Tariq did not respond.

  Elena did not push.

  Instead, she reached for the cage, unlatched the small door, and carefully lifted the creature into her palm.

  It did not resist.

  It did not tremble.

  It sat there, curled against her fingers, as if it had never known fear.

  — "Do you have anything to tell me, Tariq?"

  The question was gentle.

  It was not an interrogation.

  It was an invitation.

  Tariq held her gaze.

  — "No."

  A long pause.

  Then, Elena smiled.

  She set the creature onto the table, adjusting its position carefully.

  Then, in a single, practiced movement, she injected the syringe into Tariq's leg.

  The needle was out before he could react.

  There was no pain. No immediate sensation.

  But he knew better.

  This was not a test for a reaction.

  This was the beginning of something.

  Elena set the syringe aside.

  — "You'll tell me if something changes, won't you?"

  It was not a request.

  It was a certainty.

  Tariq exhaled through his nose.

  Elena smiled again, softer this time.

  She reached for the small creature on the table, running a careful hand over its back.

  — "They're rare, you know."

  Tariq didn't need to ask.

  He already understood.

  In 2045, animals were no longer common.

  They were preserved, engineered, protected.

  And she had never intended to harm it.

  She was simply reminding him of that fact.

  (Trama Log_000010 – Subject Nasser marked for long-term observation. Monitoring begins.)

  Elena straightened.

  — "That will be all for tonight."

  Tariq nodded once.

  And left.

  He did not return to his quarters.

  Not yet.

  Instead, he let his mind reach beyond himself, beyond the present.

  And she was there.

  Waiting.

  The whisper arrived like a breath of wind, cool against the back of his mind.

  — "She's watching you now."

  He exhaled.

  — "I know."

  A pause.

  Then, the voice again.

  — "I can hide you."

  It wasn't a promise.

  It wasn't a threat.

  It was an offer.

  Tariq turned his head slightly as if he could see her through the distance.

  — "And what do you want in return?"

  Fuchur's laughter curled through his thoughts, low and knowing.

  — "Isn't it obvious?"

  She let the silence linger for a moment longer.

  Then—

  — "Find him."