Aiden had forgotten how bright Orion's main atrium was.
Not the artificial glare of interrogation rooms, not the flat white of Lysa's imagined cage, but a high, open space of glass and shielded steel where light fell in controlled sheets from the ceiling. It was designed to make visitors feel small and safe at the same time.
Today it just made him feel exposed.
The security scanners at the entrance hummed as he approached.
He kept his pace steady.
Too slow looked like fear.
Too fast looked like intent.
He aimed for the exhausted shuffle of someone dragged in for another round of questions.
Rian walked half a step behind him, badge visible, posture casual in a way Aiden recognized as deliberate.
"Last chance to turn around," Rian murmured.
Aiden did not slow.
"We passed 'last chance' when you filed the request," he said.
"You read it," Rian said. "You saw the note."
Aiden had.
SUBJECT LIORIEN, A.
FOLLOW‑UP DEBRIEF ON TWELVE‑NORTH INCIDENT.
