Down on the floor.
The Lead Auctioneer and Director Kaelen finally grasped the magnitude of what was on the screen.
Specimen Fourteen hadn't glitched. Someone had orchestrated the crisis.
They had falsified the vitals to force a lockdown while simultaneously trying to wipe the asset's shipping history.
Director Kaelen's face turned completely feral. "Security! Lock down the hall! Restrain him! Pull his full background, his clearance logs, and every piece of hardware he's touched!"
"I want every single transit manifest he's ever signed off on audited right now!"
Guards surged forward instantly.
Snapping out of his shock, Thorne began to thrash with desperate, animalistic violence.
It was over.
The mission had failed. The module was in her hands, and his digital footprint was broadcasted to the entire room.
If Project Zero-Transit threw him into their interrogation cells... he knew exactly how long it would take them to break him.
But he couldn't even dislodge the heel planted squarely on his chest.
A vicious, decisive darkness flashed in his eyes. Just as the guards reached him, he clenched his jaw, preparing to bite down with terminal force.
A silver flash darted across his vision.
He froze mid-motion. It felt as though his jaw had been completely disconnected from his brain—his mouth gaped open, utterly unresponsive.
"Ugh—!" He stared at her in wide-eyed panic, fighting violently to snap his jaw shut, but the muscles refused to obey.
"Trying to clock out early?" Serena remarked, her tone dripping with lazy arrogance. "Did I give you permission to die?"
Only then did he realize a silver needle was embedded precisely into a nerve cluster beneath his jaw, paralyzing his mouth entirely.
He glared at her in sheer terror, guttural, strangled noises escaping his throat.
Serena turned lazily toward the captain of the guard, lifting her chin. "Second molar on the left. Extract the cyanide capsule."
The nerve clusters in his shoulders, arms, and lumbar spine were instantly severed from his motor control.
It was as if all the strength in his body evaporated. He collapsed into a pathetic heap, entirely paralyzed.
He couldn't even twitch a finger.
Serena casually dusted off her hands, then turned on her heels, stepping away from the incapacitated mole.
Her black evening gown flared beautifully around her ankles, like a blooming dark datura.
She stepped back over to Specimen Fourteen.
Raising an eyebrow, she locked eyes with Director Kaelen, whose face was a mask of unbridled fury.
With a faint smirk, she tossed him the tampered module. "I kept him alive for you."
"The malware, the operation logs, the clearance tracing—it's all perfectly preserved."
She gave a subtle nod toward the paralyzed spy on the floor. "The rest, gentlemen, is Project Zero-Transit's internal housekeeping."

Comments
The readers' comments on the novel: Messing With Her? Are You Crazy!