The city didn't know it yet, but something inside its arteries was already faltering.
Kai and Jax watched the patterns unfold like a carefully plotted diagram come to life. Every misstep, every hesitation, was no longer isolated. They had begun to intersect, forming clusters of errors that magnified each other. A delivery rerouted incorrectly collided with a delayed dispatch. Guards duplicated their checks, wasting time. Communications overlapped, contradicting one another, forcing higher-level operators into quick, flawed decisions.
Kai didn't speak. His eyes tracked the feeds, noting every ripple. "Momentum," he murmured. "Errors amplify faster when people try to fix them. Their own corrections are feeding the system's collapse."
Jax leaned over a monitor, voice low. "They're realizing something's wrong… but none of them knows what it is."
"Exactly," Kai replied. "They can sense instability but misidentify the cause. That's the leverage we hold. Perception is more important than reality."
A courier hurried down the wrong street, unaware he was being redirected by previous delays. Two operators argued over priority orders, each certain the other was mistaken. The network was a living puzzle of compounded mistakes, and every piece shifted unpredictably, yet perfectly within Kai's anticipation.
Kai's fingers brushed the device in his pocket. It wasn't time to use it yet. This stage was about letting their own system collapse naturally, building tension until even minor disruptions carried weight.
Jax exhaled. "And if they start questioning the right things?"
Kai's gaze remained fixed on the monitors. "They might—but only after they've committed further. That's the beauty of anticipation. By the time the truth dawns, their options are limited. Every choice becomes a compromise, every action an escalation."
On the screens, a senior manager hesitated before issuing a command, second-guessing a subordinate's report. That pause cost precious seconds. Another courier retraced his steps unnecessarily, duplicating delays. Small, invisible collapses compounded into something tangible and undeniable.
"The dominoes are stacking themselves," Jax said softly.
Kai allowed a faint nod. "They are. And each domino now carries more weight than the last. Soon, the cracks they can't see will become impossible to ignore."
Outside, the city moved on, ignorant of the pressure quietly building. Inside, every moment was a calculated advantage, every hesitation a step toward inevitable collapse.
Kai finally stood straight, voice calm. "The network thinks it's still in control. That illusion won't last. And when it breaks, nothing will be the same."
Jax looked at him. "And they'll never see us coming."
Kai's eyes glinted. "Not until it's too late."