The operation unfolds with me exposed by design.
Not reckless.
Calculated.
There’s a difference, and I feel it in my body from the first morning it goes live. Recklessness frays the edges of attention, turns every sound sharp, every shadow suspect. This isn’t that. This is deliberate exposure, shaped and bounded, chosen instead of imposed.
I wake early, before the alarm, the way I always do when something matters. The room is dim, quiet except for the low hum of the building settling. I lie there for a moment, breathing, letting my senses come online one by one. Nothing feels wrong. Nothing feels rushed.
I shower like I always do. Warm water, steady pressure. I brush my teeth, count the strokes without meaning to. I pull my hair back, check my reflection, make a small adjustment to my
