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The figure stopped mid-motion. Slowly, they turned around. Under the dim, flickering streetlamp, Elias felt his heart stop.

The rain had been falling for three days straight, turning the narrow alleys of the city into slick, reflective rivers of neon. Detective Elias Thorne sat in his parked car, the rhythmic sweep of the windshield wipers doing little to clear his view of the warehouse across the street. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a worn, glossy photograph labeled simply .

It was the only physical evidence left behind from the digital heist that had crippled the city's power grid.