The city did not notice when it became a target.
Y City had never been the kind of place that drew careful eyes. It was loud, layered, imperfect. A place where things broke and were fixed just enough to keep going. Where strange events could disappear beneath routine and noise.
But now, something had changed.
Not in the streets.
In the way those streets were being watched.
---
Miles away, in a secured federal facility built of concrete and silence, the name Gravion no longer sounded like a joke.
It sounded like a problem.
Director Elaine Carter stood before a wide digital display, her posture still, her gaze fixed. The room behind her was dim, lit only by cold blue projections that floated in mid air.
Maps.
Timelines.
Data points.
Y City pulsed at the center of it all, marked with clusters of incidents.
Each one tagged.
Each one analyzed.
Each one impossible.
A young analyst spoke, voice steady but carrying a trace of tension.
