The world snapped from crystal light to sodium glare.
Champagne bubbles became the taste of diesel and salt. The murmur of a well-dressed crowd was replaced by the distant groan of cranes and the sharp, reversing beep of a forklift. Elara blinked, the ghost of a bidding paddle still a phantom weight in her coat pocket. Now, her fingers closed around a different tool: a company-issued tablet, cold and slick with sea-humidity.
[Ding!]
Event: World Transfer Complete — Freeport
Status:
- Survival Probability: 75% → 45% (world baseline reset)
- Attention: 22/100 (Anchor persists)
- Inspection Timer: 00:40:00
Sub-Objectives:
A) Detect twin-crate substitution before release (+7%)
B) Avoid detention by Customs > 6h (−5% if breached)
C) Secure chain-of-custody video snippet (+4%)
She stood in the vast, echoing cavern of a bonded warehouse. Strip lights flickered high above, casting long, distorted shadows. Her new memories supplied the context: Elara Vance, logistics risk consultant, attached to a high-value shipment flagged for potential anomalies. The gossip here was the same, just in a different language: problem heiress, fixes customs issues, trouble.
Her eyes scanned the digital manifest. Container MSCU 781945-3. Due for release from Bay 7-B. But her trained eye caught the risk note: a near-identical container, MSCU 781945-8, had been logged in the same vessel. "ISO container codes use a check digit," she muttered, the knowledge surfacing. "Change one digit, the checksum changes. They look almost the same, but the system knows they're different."
One was the original. One was a mirror. A twin for substitution.
She approached the chain-link fence separating the observation area from the loading bay. "Logistics audit for MSCU 781945-3," she announced to the guard. "Requesting visual inspection and seal verification prior to release. Bonded status protocols."
A new presence materialized from the shadows between towering container stacks. A man in a port authority safety vest over a dark shirt. His eyes were the color of wet slate, his posture utterly still amidst the chaos. Rowan Hale. Maritime Compliance Investigator. He assessed her with a single, sweeping glance that felt more invasive than any scanner.
"Tamper accusations in a bonded zone without proof don't end well for the accuser," he said, his voice calm, low, and carrying. "They lead to detention. For the duration of the investigation."
"I'm not accusing. I'm verifying," Elara countered smoothly. "Bonded-zone protocol 4-Alpha allows for a joint verification on record. Seal number, RFID log, manifest reconciliation. All without breaking the seal. All on the record."
He watched her for a long moment, his gaze noting her precise use of procedure over pleading.
[Ding!]
Event: Male Lead Interaction (On Site)
Status:
- Attention: 22/100 → 25/100 (Δ +3)
- Survival Probability: 45% → 44% (Δ −1%)
Note: Prolonged scrutiny increases risk.
"Granted," he said. "You observe. My officer escorts. You touch nothing."
He led the way to Bay 7-B. The container sat there, a rust-streaked monolith. Rowan produced a high-powered torch. Elara didn't wait for an invitation, her eyes already scanning.
"There," she said, pointing to the heavy bolt seal. "Asymmetry in the bite. A micro tool nick on the shank." She shifted her gaze. "The paint ring around the bolt head is offset. And look." She indicated a faint, damp line beneath the hinge. "A bead of brine. Inconsistent with the reported humidity for the ship's last leg."
Rowan said nothing, but his silence was attentive. He pulled out his own device, pulling up the RFID log. "RFID e-seal pinged normally… except for a seventeen-minute gap yesterday. Location: Yard C."
"Pull the humidity logger telemetry," Elara added. Rowan tapped; a simple graph populated—temperature and RH.
The humidity trace showed a straight-edged plateau—too clean to be raw sensor noise. "That's a splice," she said. "Somebody cut and pasted the data."
[Ding!]
Event: Handler Interference Suspected
Status:
- Attention: 25/100 → 27/100 (Δ +2)
- Survival Probability: 44% → 42% (Δ −2)
Note: Avoid private detention > 6h.
"Yard C is a blind spot," Rowan commented, his tone neutral.
"Then let's see what the camera saw before the auto-purge," Elara said. "General audit request for Yard C footage, sixty-second window covering that gap."
After a moment's hesitation, Rowan gave a curt nod to a technician. A file was produced. Elara scrubbed through. There. Five seconds of grainy footage. A forklift hauling two identical containers, nose-to-tail, through the dimness of Yard C.
[Ding!]
Event: Chain-of-Custody Snapshot Saved (Yard C, 5s)
Status:
- Survival Probability: 42% → 46% (Δ +4)
Sub-Objective C progress: 50% → 100%
A crackling announcement echoed across the yard. "Attention. Port storm hold in effect. T-minus two hours. Secure all cargo."
[Thrum…]
Warning: Port Storm Hold T−02:00:00
Penalty on Failure: −6%
If the crate went into bonded storage, the trail died tonight.
"Time for a wedge," Elara said, turning to Rowan. "Formal request for a joint seal-count and manifest reconciliation. We cross-reference the physical seal ID, the RFID serial, the bill of lading case count, and the weight variance. On the record. Right now."
Rowan studied her. "If you're wrong, your name goes on the incident log. Permanently."
"I know."
He nodded. "Then we do it by the book." He produced a pair of nitrile gloves from his vest pocket and handed them to her without another word.
Using an official camera, Elara captured macro shots of the seal. The images clearly showed the subtle heat bloom and adhesive feathering at the edges—signs of removal and reapplication—alongside the definitive tool nick.
[Ding!]
Event: Evidence Capture — Heat Bloom & Tool Nick (Seal)
Status:
- Survival Probability: 46% → 50% (Δ +4)
[Ding!]
Event: Joint Seal-Count Authorized
Status:
- Survival Probability: 50% → 53% (Δ +3)
As they began the methodical count, a new sound cut through the wind—the growl of a forklift. Elara's head snapped up. Another container was being moved from a nearby stack. Its label, stark under the lights, read: MSCU 781945-8. The twin. It was being shifted toward the exit lane.
"Hold that vehicle!" Rowan's command cut through the noise, his voice sharp with authority.
The forklift jerked to a stop. The wind whipped through the yard, making the sodium lights buzz and sway, casting strobing, dancing shadows. The twin crate sat there, a silent doppelgänger.
Rowan turned to Elara, his slate eyes intent. "The proof is solid for tampering. But which crate is the original? I need to know which one to impound. And I need to know now."
[Thrum…]
Warning: Twin Crate in Motion (7-B′)
Timer: 00:10:00
Penalty on Failure: Survival −8%
[Ding!]
Sub-Objective Unlocked:
D) Prove which crate is the mirror within 00:90:00 (+6%)