The morning felt too normal to be safe.

Frank was up before sunrise, sitting at the kitchen table with his usual mug of black coffee, eyes tracing the city skyline through the half-open blinds. The air was still; the silence was staged. Across the apartment, Zoey moved quietly, her hair tied back, dressed in formal corporate black. Both looked like professionals heading to work — but both knew they were walking straight into a minefield.

Zoey: "Feels strange, pretending to be normal again."Frank: "Normal's just another kind of disguise."

She poured coffee, her hand trembling slightly as the liquid filled the cup. Frank caught the shake but didn't say anything. He simply checked his watch, the same habit he'd never lost since his mercenary days. 07:05.

They left the apartment separately, no goodbye, no small talk — only the sound of two doors closing seconds apart.

Arrival at Vertex

Northvale's business district gleamed like a monument to ambition — steel, glass, and mirrored surfaces. Vertex Technologies stood at the center of it all, a tower that seemed to cut through the clouds.

Frank entered through the eastern wing, ID badge clipped to his suit: Frank Donovan – Systems Engineer. He scanned through the security gates, a sterile chime marking his approval.

Zoey arrived moments later from the north side — Zoey Lee – PR Consultant. Her heels echoed across the polished floor as security drones hovered above, silent observers.

The lobby was immaculate. White marble. Chrome pillars. Employees moved in perfect lines — no laughter, no chatter. Just synchronized steps.

Frank's eyes flicked over every angle — cameras in corners, security guards stationed at precise intervals, biometric locks on every door.

Frank (to himself): "Too clean. Too controlled."

A receptionist smiled mechanically.

Receptionist: "Welcome to Vertex, Mr. Donovan. You've been assigned to Dr. Voss in Cyber Security."Frank: "Lucky me."

Meanwhile, Zoey was intercepted by a tall man with graying hair and a fixed smile.

Halden: "Ms. Lee, right? PR division's just this way. We're very excited to have you."Zoey (nodding): "Happy to be here."Halden: "We're a family at Vertex. You'll see that soon enough."

The way he said family made her uneasy.

First Impressions

Frank followed Dr. Elias Voss, a calm, deliberate man in his fifties whose tone carried a quiet superiority.

Voss: "Our work here is about control. Order. The digital world is chaos, Mr. Donovan — we bring clarity."Frank: "Control and clarity, huh? Sounds noble."Voss (smiling faintly): "Noble doesn't mean harmless."

They walked past rows of humming servers encased in glass, the air heavy with static. Through tinted windows, Frank noticed a floor marked Restricted Access – Sector 9. The lettering alone set his instincts on edge.

Across the building, Zoey was seated in a sleek conference room surrounded by PR staff rehearsing talking points about "Digital Transparency" and "Human-Centered Innovation." The words meant nothing. Everyone spoke like they were reading from a script.

At lunch, she slipped away to meet Frank in the company cafeteria. The walls were white, the sound dampened by design.

Zoey: "Feels like everyone here's performing."Frank: "Maybe they are. Or maybe they've forgotten who they used to be."

Their eyes met briefly — two strangers in the middle of a machine pretending to be a company.

The Shadows Within

By mid-afternoon, Zoey met Elena Myles, a friendly young woman from HR who seemed too eager to chat.

Elena: "So… Zoey Lee. Haven't seen your name in our database before. You said you came from the Shindora branch?"Zoey (smoothly): "Consultancy work. PR contracts shift fast."Elena (smiling): "Right, of course. Mind if I ask — what did you do before Vertex?"Zoey: "I learned when not to answer questions."

Elena laughed, but her eyes stayed sharp. Zoey didn't like that look — the one that said I'll be checking later.

Meanwhile, Frank caught a technician watching him — a nervous man named Caleb, pretending to organize files while glancing at Frank's monitor.

Frank: "You got a question, Caleb?"Caleb (startled): "No, sir! Just, uh… verifying system protocols."Frank: "Good. Keep verifying."

When Caleb walked away, Frank slipped a folded napkin into his pocket — a note he'd written earlier:"Eyes everywhere. Play dumb."

He found a moment to hand it to Zoey near the vending machine. She read it once, nodded, and burned it in an ashtray nearby.

Project ECHO

That evening, during a scheduled server reboot, Frank found his window.

The system went dark for three minutes — backup power humming like a heartbeat. He plugged in his decryptor and accessed a hidden partition labeled Project ECHO.

His fingers moved fast — copying fragments, reading snippets before the system resecured itself. Words flashed across the screen:

"Synthetic Identity Replication""Emotion Capture Protocol""Neural Extraction Interface – Stage 4 Live Subjects."

Then the files sealed, and the lights flicked back on.

Behind him, a voice broke the silence.

Voss: "Curiosity can be dangerous here, Mr. Donovan."Frank (turning slowly): "So can ignorance."

They locked eyes for a tense moment.

Voss: "You're not like the others."Frank: "I'll take that as a compliment."

Frank walked away, pulse steady but his mind racing. Vertex wasn't stealing data; they were stealing minds.

Zoey's Warning

At her workstation, Zoey's computer pinged — a new encrypted message appearing on her terminal.

"We know who you are. Keep your mouth shut or your partner disappears."

Her breath caught. She looked through the glass wall at Frank on the other side, calm and unreadable. She deleted the message instantly, her fingers shaking.

When she turned, Elena was standing by the door again, smiling politely.

Elena: "Long day?"Zoey (forcing a smile): "You could say that."

After Hours

The clock hit 7 p.m. The building emptied. Neon from outside spilled across the marble floors as Frank and Zoey exited through separate doors, maintaining their cover.

Two blocks away, they met in a dim corner café that smelled of old coffee and rain.

Zoey: "This place… it's not just stealing data, Frank."Frank: "I know. They're rewriting it. Reprogramming people — maybe even us."Zoey: "Then what are we now?"Frank: "Collateral."

She stared at him, searching for a trace of reassurance that wasn't there.

Zoey: "We can't take them on alone."Frank: "We won't. But first, we need to know how deep this goes."

They left quietly, their reflection melting into the rainy glass of the café window.

The Revelation

Back at his room, Frank locked the door, pulled out his encrypted drive, and inserted it into his private terminal. The screen flickered, loading fragments from Project ECHO.

For a moment, nothing happened — then a video appeared.

A woman strapped to a chair, sensors on her temples, data streams pulsing across the screen. The image was grainy, distorted — but Frank's stomach dropped.

It was Zoey.

He froze, every muscle tightening. Her eyes in the footage were lifeless, mechanical — a simulation or… something worse.

The feed glitched, scrambled, and then self-erased.

Frank sat back, silent. The air felt heavier now, like the room itself was closing in.

Frank (quietly): "What the hell are you, Zoey?"

The lights in his room dimmed suddenly — automatic system update. For a fraction of a second, the reflection in the darkened screen wasn't his own. It was Zoey's, staring back — the same image from the footage.

He reached for his gun.

The reflection vanished.

Outside, the hum of Vertex's tower carried through the night like a living pulse.

Frank leaned back slowly, whispering to himself:

Frank: "Whatever Vertex is building… she's already a part of it."

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