Morvius was still lost for words.
Another impossible report. Another crack in the order he once believed unshakable. He gritted his teeth hard enough to ache, his knuckles white as he clenched the marble tablet in his hand. The runes flickered under his grip.
His secretary stood silently beside him, but the anxiety in the room was thick between them. She felt it as well. A weight pressing on their chests. It was an unfamiliar and nauseating sense of helplessness.
The Bureau had never been in this position before. They were the watchers, the archivists, the hidden hand that always knew. But now?
Now, they knew nothing.
She glanced at Morvius, uncertain if she should speak.
She had been tasked with tracking all the strange movements, maintaining contact with embedded spies, gathering anything from the Observation Wing. But the results were the same, over and over again, they found nothing. None of their agents had any explanation.
