The dim hum of the interrogation room's overhead light cast sharp shadows against the cold, sterile walls. Vincent sat with his hands folded, his expression unreadable. Across from him, Marla leaned forward, her sharp eyes scanning his every move, searching for the smallest crack in his composure.
Cynthia and Prometheus stood behind the one-way mirror, their gazes locked on Vincent. Lena was beside them, arms crossed, tension rolling off her in waves.
"He doesn't look guilty," Lena muttered, her voice laced with uncertainty. "At least… not in the way we thought."
Cynthia remained silent, observing. Marla had spent years unraveling deception. If Vincent was hiding something, she would find it.
Inside the room, Marla tapped a folder against the table, breaking the silence. "We found traces of your credentials being used to access classified propulsion data," she said coolly. "The same data that was transmitted out of AeroGallacianSpace without authorization."
Vincent didn't react. "And you think that was me?"
Marla tilted her head. "I think someone wants us to believe that."
A flicker of something—relief?—crossed Vincent's face before it vanished. "Then you know I'm not your leak."
Marla leaned back. "That depends. If you didn't send those transmissions, who did?"
Vincent hesitated. For the first time, doubt crept into his features. "There's only one other person who had the same level of access." He exhaled sharply. "Dr. Adrian."
Lena stiffened behind the glass. "Wait… what?"
Cynthia's mind reeled. Dr. Adrian had been a pillar of the research team—quiet, methodical, unwavering. But now, in the wake of every revelation, his absence stood out like a glaring anomaly.
Prometheus narrowed his eyes. "If that's true, why wait until now to say something?"
Inside the room, Vincent's fingers curled against the table. "Because I didn't want to believe it." His voice was lower now, tinged with something Cynthia couldn't quite name. "Adrian was the one who brought me into this project. He trained me. If he's involved in this…"
Marla didn't let up. "If he's involved, then he's been ahead of us this whole time."
A chilling silence filled the air.
Cynthia turned sharply. "We need to find him. Now."
Lena's hands flew over the console, pulling up AeroGallacianSpace's internal tracking system. "He hasn't used his badge in over 48 hours. No logs, no entries." She swallowed. "It's like he disappeared."
Prometheus exhaled. "Which means he knows we're getting close."
Cynthia clenched her fists. Every step forward only revealed how deeply the deception ran. Adrian hadn't just vanished—he had made sure no one would follow. But they would.
Because now, they weren't just chasing a traitor.
They were chasing a ghost.