LOGIN“Turn around, Elliot.”Timothy’s voice came from behind him—low, steady, but not as untouched as before. There was something under it now. Not quite frustration. Not quite urgency. Something closer to strain, pressed thin beneath control.Elliot let out a quiet breath, his shoulders rising and falling once before he shook his head.“No,” he said, not loudly—just enough to make it clear he meant it.For a moment, neither of them moved.The red emergency lighting cast long shadows along the corridor, stretching and shifting every time it flickered. The air still carried that faint metallic heat from earlier, but now it felt heavier for a different reason.“You’re making this harder than it needs to be,” Timothy said after a pause.Elliot turned slowly, just enough to glance at him over his shoulder.“Funny,” he replied. “I was about to say the same thing.”Timothy exhaled quietly through his nose, as if holding back something sharper.“This isn’t the time for defiance.”“And when is?” E
“You’re too calm.”Elliot’s voice cut through the corridor, sharper than before, carrying something that hadn’t been there earlier.It was laced with something closer to strain.Timothy stood a few steps away, his attention fixed on the sealed shutter ahead, as if he could dismantle it just by looking long enough.“That concerns you?” he asked.“Yes.”Elliot let out a quiet, humorless breath.“Because either you’ve already figured a way out of this,” he continued, “or you don’t think this is a problem.”A pause.“Which one is it?”Timothy turned slightly, his expression unreadable.“I am assessing.”Elliot gave a small nod.“Of course you are.”He turned away, pacing once across the narrow stretch of corridor, his steps sharper now, less controlled.The red emergency lights pulsed steadily, washing everything in a dull glow that made it hard to focus—like the world had narrowed into something smaller, tighter.Elliot dragged a hand through his hair.“You know what’s funny?”Timothy di
“Open it.”Elliot leaned against the rooftop door, one brow raised as he watched Timothy try the handle again.“You know, for someone who runs an empire, you’re having a surprisingly hard time with a door.”Timothy didn’t respond. He simply adjusted his grip and turned the handle with controlled force.This time, it clicked.The door swung inward.Elliot straightened, blinking. “…Okay. That feels suspiciously cooperative.”“It’s intentional,” Timothy said, already stepping through.Elliot followed, though his eyes stayed on the door a moment longer before it shut behind them with a dull, final sound.“That’s not ominous at all,” he muttered.The stairwell was dim, the lights overhead casting uneven patches of yellow that barely reached the corners. The air felt different here—warmer, heavier, like the building itself was holding its breath.Elliot shoved his hands into his pockets, glancing down the spiraling stairs.“So what’s the plan? We keep walking until your building decides to
“Did you lock this?”Elliot pulled the door harder, metal rattling under the force.It didn’t budge.Behind him, Timothy answered without urgency.“No.”Elliot glanced over his shoulder.“That’s not comforting.”“Well it’s accurate.”“Yeah, that’s the problem.”Another pull, stronger this time but it still did not bulge.Elliot stepped back, exhaling through his nose as he looked at the handle like it might suddenly cooperate out of pity.It didn’t.“Alright,” he muttered. “So we’re locked on the roof. Wow, just wow.”A sharp, mechanical click sounded above them.Both of them looked up.The lights flickered once—Then snapped on.All of them.Elliot winced slightly at the sudden brightness.“Impressive.”Timothy didn’t respond.His attention was already somewhere else.Elliot followed his line of sight—Straight to the maintenance cart.It moved. not slowly like before but direct.“Okay,” Elliot said under his breath, watching it roll past him. “I don’t like that.”The cart stopped in
The rooftop wasn’t part of Elliot’s routine.That was exactly why he chose it.The door shut behind him with a dull metallic thud, cutting off the controlled quiet of the building below. Up here, the air felt different—sharper, less filtered.Wind moved freely, brushing past him, tugging lightly at his shirt.For the first time in hours—He could breathe without thinking about it.The city stretched out beneath him.Lights blinking.Cars sliding through distant roads.Everything moved.Everything felt alive.Elliot walked toward the edge, stopping just short of the barrier. His hands rested against the cool metal rail as he leaned forward slightly.No glass walls.No silent observers pretending not to watch.Just space.His shoulders eased.Not completely.But enough.He stayed like that for a while.Long enough for the tension in his chest to loosen into something quieter.Then—A sound.Soft.Out of place.Elliot’s head turned slightly.The rooftop was empty.Or it should have been.
The office never slept.It only changed rhythm.Morning had been sharp and efficient—voices clipped, movements precise. By afternoon, everything softened into a quieter intensity. Conversations dropped lower. Screens glowed brighter against dimmer lights.Now—It hovered somewhere in between.Elliot sat at his station, shoulders slightly hunched, eyes fixed on the code flowing down his screen.Line after line.Command after command.Clean.Structured.Perfect.Too perfect.His fingers moved automatically, running checks that didn’t need to be run.Protocols that had already been verified.Security layers that had already proven themselves.Still—He kept going.Because stopping meant thinking.And thinking brought him back to one place.The elevator.The stillness.The quiet click above him.The way the world had narrowed into a metal box and a voice that didn’t hesitate.Go back.Elliot’s jaw tightened.His fingers stilled over the keyboard.No.He exhaled slowly and forced himself f
The conference room felt colder than usual. Elliot wasn’t sure if it was the air conditioning or the tension still lingering from the argument earlier. Probably both. He sat near the middle of the long glass table, his tablet resting in front of him while several executives quietly reviewed doc
The next few days passed in a strange rhythm. Wake up. Work. Argue with Timothy. Repeat. Elliot had stopped trying to use the elevator after the “coffee incident.” The memory still irritated him every time he thought about it. Golden cage. The words kept circling in his head. He h
By the third day, Elliot had learned two important things about living in Timothy Blackwood’s world. First The man barely slept. Second Everything in his life was controlled with terrifying precision. Schedules. Security. Employees. Information. Even the elevators moved only when the syst
The next morning felt strange. Not because Elliot had barely slept. Not because his brain still buzzed from the cyberattack the night before. But because when he woke up, the first thing he noticed was the coat still draped over the chair beside his bed. Timothy’s coat. Dark. Expensive. And







