The morning sunlight, thin and dirty, streamed into Ace's room through the cheap blinds of Unit 7, casting harsh stripes across his face. He woke up suddenly, disoriented, the fading remnants of a nightmare still clinging to him—darkness closing in and Deke's rasping voice echoing in his mind. For a brief, almost peaceful moment, all he heard was the quiet hum of the motel waking up. Then the memories hit him hard—the cramped storage closet, the recorder tightly in his hand, Deke's chilling pause in the conversation, Evelyn launching the digital grenade... and the System's cold, deafening silence that followed.
He sat up slowly, rubbing his tired eyes with his rough fingers. The fatigue hit him like a wave—he'd crashed hard after getting back from Evelyn's place, the adrenaline finally bleeding away and leaving only bone-deep exhaustion. Now, the familiar, sharp pain started building behind his temples, strong and persistent.
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