The bulkhead sighs open, and Dallas Fontaine steps into a cramped relay hub washed in cold blue server light. A terminal glows ahead, still logged into the internal handler’s account, patrol routes crawling across the screen.

A warning bar flashes. Memory wipe in progress. File purge begins to chew through the session, erasing the trail by the second.

A second monitor stutters on, showing a live corridor feed deeper in the spine. For one hard beat, a bound figure is visible under a lamp farther ahead, head bowed, guards moving past the frame.

Dallas reaches the terminal as the cursor jumps and the log starts disappearing, the mole’s hiding place narrowing to a name, a route, and the next door in the spine.

Dallas keys into the terminal and the handler account snaps to his cursor, no longer slipping away. The purge stalls mid-bite, frozen on a half-erased audit trail.

A fresh access panel opens on-screen, exposing route logs, door codes, and the hidden account history the purge tried to bury. The amber status light on the console steadies.

On the distant feed, Professor Dayton shifts under the lamp as a guard passes. The feed widens with the unlocked trace, tying the captive route to the handler’s account.

The dog stiffens at the chamber mouth, growling low toward the corridor.

The terminal finishes indexing the account before the wipe can recover. One file flashes open, naming the Harbor Unit mole and the next maintenance door in the spine.