Scene 6:
Within the hour, black SUVs lined the quiet neighborhood street. Several agents emerged with duffel bags and cases, silently taking positions in and around Aria's small home. Some began installing slim panels along the edges of the yard—nodes that pulsed faintly with a soft blue hum. Others unrolled portable mesh drones into corners of the roof.
A quiet hum filled the air — low, like static beneath breath.
Aria sat stiffly on the living room couch as Kael allowed one of the arriving medics to examine him. The woman was young, steady-handed, and avoided unnecessary words.
"He's not injured," she murmured to Aria. "No signs of recent trauma. Heart rate is… oddly consistent. Almost synthetic in rhythm."
"Synthetic?"
"I mean it's unnaturally even. Not robotic, just… devoid of variation. No spikes. Not even when I tested his pain response. It's like his nervous system isn't reacting to stimuli the way it should."
Aria frowned deeply and glanced toward Kael — who was sitting calmly, staring at nothing.
The medic lowered her voice. "I'd recommend a full neuro scan. But if I'm honest…" She looked around nervously. "Some of the agents here — I've seen them before. They're not all from the same branch."
"What does that mean?" Aria asked sharply.
But before the woman could answer, the front door creaked open.
Three more agents stepped in — black coats, stiff expressions — too uniform. Too quiet. Marx barely looked up from where he was reviewing data near the window.
"Reinforcements from the West District," one of them said calmly.
Marx nodded, but the older agent from before — Agent Hale — frowned.
"I didn't request West District," he muttered.
"It was cleared by central," the new arrival replied smoothly. "We're under new shift orders."
Marx's jaw flexed, but he didn't argue. "Fine. Take over outside patrol. Two of you near the alley. One on the roof."
They dispersed quickly, silently.
Aria watched them with a pit forming in her gut.
She whispered toward Kael. "Do you know them?"
Kael blinked slowly. "No memory to cross-reference."
Helpful, she thought bitterly.
---
Later that night…
Kael lay silently on the mattress in Aria's room — now turned into a makeshift medical area. He hadn't complained, hadn't said anything. Just lay still, eyes open.
Aria sat on the floor near the door, half-asleep.
Outside, the two supposed "West District" agents walked a slow loop around the backyard. But instead of checking defenses, one leaned closer to the other and murmured, "It's confirmed. The extraction happens before sunrise."
"What about the others?"
"Already briefed. Once the girl's asleep, we move in. Orders are to isolate the target. Bring him in. Leave no trace."
A third agent — watching from the rooftop — tapped his communicator.
"All units in position. Phase two begins on signal."
Inside, Kael blinked slowly.
He didn't know why, but something felt… off.
And not because of emotion.
Because of pattern.
Something was out of place.
He sat up.