The backlash did not arrive loudly.
That was the first mistake people made when they tried to measure it.
There were no explosions, no raids, no dramatic seizures splashed across headlines. Instead, the damage moved with surgical elegance, quiet, deniable, corrosive. The kind of pressure that didn't seek spectacle but compliance.
Aria felt it before it registered on any dashboard.
She was halfway through a briefing when the room subtly shifted, advisors exchanging glances, analysts hesitating before speaking, data feeds refreshing a second too slowly.
She raised a hand. "Pause."
The room froze.
"What changed?" she asked.
No one answered immediately.
That told her everything.
Dante stepped forward, eyes already scanning the live intelligence streams. "They're not hitting infrastructure," he said slowly. "They're hitting people."
The screen bloomed with names.
