“Patterns aligned, cruel in their precision—a connection he didn’t want to see but couldn’t unsee.”

He tipped the Chinese to H2ONU. He’s been funding from the shadows. One of his shells owns the land under the lab. The words struck like stone. Each connection too neat. Patterns aligned, cruel in their precision—a connection he didn’t want to see but couldn’t unsee. The dashboard glow flared too bright; he dimmed it, as if dimming time itself. But time ticked on, relentless—seconds dragging like weights.