The whistleblower's data packet, a pulsating orb of compressed truth, flowed into Thane's specter. He plugged it into the vault, and the transfer began—a torrent of incandescent code. But halfway through, the pristine server sanctum screamed. Logic grids flashed from cool white to blood-red alarm. Icy blue containment fields erupted from the polished floor, walling off server sectors. Two more crimson Hunter-Seekers materialized from the digital ether, their optical sensors burning with predatory focus. Their metallic claws unsheathed as they swarmed his position, their shrieks scraping against his code. #project89