Dominic’s POV
Information is oxygen and lately, I’ve been suffocating.
Z-Core’s networks are locked tighter than I’ve ever seen. Stanley’s paranoia has grown teeth, encrypted firewalls, rotating access keys, internal AI monitors that report deviations within seconds.
It’s no longer a company, it’s a surveillance machine wearing a corporate badge. To break in, I need someone inside.
That’s where Noah Tran comes in. A Level-2 IT specialist. Young, brilliant, underpaid.
We meet in the kind of place no one looks for business deals, a dingy café behind the transport terminal, where the air smells like burnt espresso and rain-soaked metal.
He spots me immediately, clutching his tablet like a shield. His Z-Core badge glints under the yellow light. “Mr. Cole?” he asks, voice uncertain.
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