Zone sat in the dimly lit study, the faint hum of the tech interface punctuating the silence. His eyes scanned the digital displays projected on the sleek, black glass walls, each screen showcasing a meticulous web of data points, maps, and dossiers. The faint glow cast his face in sharp relief, his expression impassive as his mind worked through countless possibilities.

"That was uncharacteristic of Father," Zone thought, manipulating the holographic screens. "For him to propose delaying an investigation... there's a goal hidden in that move. No matter. I'll prepare regardless. Joint operation or not, we need more information about that land."

The data streams shifted, and Zone tapped a command, bringing up a three-dimensional model of the uncharted land beyond the Wall. Reconnaissance reports from automated probes offered fragments of insight, though their reach was limited. Adjusting the model, Zone honed in on anomalies in the terrain, energy signatures, and potential strongholds.

"These readings... erratic spikes, fluctuations," Zone murmured. "A source unrecognized by any database? Impossible. We've cataloged every element in our universe and even adjacent ones." He tapped another screen, cycling through reports. "Whatever the case, action is needed. This operation isn't just scientific curiosity—it's a battlefield waiting to erupt."

His gaze hardened. "The Continental Congress pretends at unity, but even the Utopians—preachers of preservation—are opportunists. They'll see this as a chance to elevate their standing." He dragged another screen closer, labeled Great Devastation. The remnants of shattered lands filled the projection.

"After the Great Devastation, warfare beyond nuclear levels is a gamble no one can afford," Zone thought, studying the barren wastelands. "But if I could secure something that mitigates that risk..."

The sound of the main entry unlocking interrupted his thoughts. Footsteps approached, deliberate and measured. His father had returned.

Zone stood and met Darius as he entered the study, his expression composed, his movements deliberate. Darius's face was inscrutable, though a faint gleam in his eyes hinted at satisfaction.

"The Congress has made its decision," Darius said, removing his overcoat and hanging it on the chrome rack by the door.

Zone's voice was flat. "And the joint operation?"

"As expected." Darius inclined his head. "It begins at midnight."

"You don't seem disappointed," Zone observed.

Darius's lips curved slightly. "You should know why."

Zone remained silent, studying his father's face. Then it clicked.

"You wanted the joint operation all along," he said. "The reluctance—a smokescreen."

Darius's gaze shifted to the window, his silhouette framed by the faint glow of the horizon where the Wall once stood. "Rose operatives will go ahead of the joint operation."

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Zone's thoughts confirmed the inevitability of it. "So this was your plan."

"The Congress must believe they hold the reins," Darius said calmly. "Let them feel secure in their unity while we secure what matters. The operatives are well-trained, their methods untraceable. By the time they realize the land isn't untouched, they'll have no idea where to start."

Zone's lips twitched in something almost like amusement. "Genetics really are hereditary," he thought.

Time moved quickly.

The Rose family compound was a hive of subdued activity. In the underground launch bay, operatives moved with precision, their dark uniforms blending seamlessly with the shadowed metal walls. The hum of high-powered engines echoed softly, the only sound accompanying the methodical clicks of equipment checks. Each operative was a paragon of efficiency—elite, focused, and utterly loyal to the Rose family.

Zone stood on an elevated observation deck, his hands clasped behind his back as he watched the preparations. Below, a dozen operatives conducted final equipment calibrations, their movements synchronized like the inner workings of a finely-tuned machine. The transport vessel, sleek and angular, loomed in the center of the bay, its exterior bristling with concealed technology designed for stealth and adaptability.

Zone's gaze swept over the scene, his sharp eyes noting every detail—the slight tremor in one operative's hand as he double-checked his harness, the deliberate slowness of another adjusting her visor. He mentally filed away the observations, assessing strengths and vulnerabilities.

"Impressive, aren't they?" Darius's voice broke the silence, calm and measured as he approached from behind.

Zone didn't turn. "Efficient, yes. But efficiency isn't infallibility."

Darius smirked faintly. "Which is why they're equipped to handle contingencies. These operatives have been trained for scenarios far beyond this mission."

Zone finally shifted his gaze to his father, his expression neutral. "Training and execution are different matters. You're placing significant trust in their abilities."

Darius regarded him with a knowing look. "Trust is irrelevant when outcomes are controlled."

A faint hum signaled the activation of the transport's main systems. The operatives filed aboard in perfect order, their faces obscured by sleek helmets. The bay's lighting dimmed, and the vessel's engines began to glow with an otherworldly blue light.

Zone's eyes flickered back to the transport. "Do they know the full extent of what they're walking into?"

Darius raised an eyebrow. "They know enough. Anything more would be a distraction."

The transport's engines roared softly, the sound growing as the vessel lifted off the ground, hovering briefly before accelerating into the darkness of the exit tunnel. Zone tracked its departure until it disappeared from view, the faint echo of its passage lingering in the air.

He turned back to Darius, his expression as unreadable as ever. "What happens if they're discovered?"

Darius's lips curled into a thin smile. "They won't be. And if they are, it won't lead back to us."

Zone said nothing, his mind already calculating the probabilities. He watched as his father poured himself a glass of amber liquid from a decanter on a nearby table. The older man raised the glass in a casual toast, his eyes glinting with satisfaction.

"You seem pensive," Darius remarked, swirling the liquid lazily.

Zone's gaze remained steady. "Just ensuring the operation proceeds as planned."

Darius chuckled, the sound low and devoid of warmth. "Plans are a foundation, not a guarantee."

Zone finally turned to face him fully, his voice cool. "Foundations are meant to be tested."

Darius studied him for a moment, then raised his glass in a mock toast. "Let's hope this one doesn't crumble."

As Darius disappeared into the shadows of the corridor, Zone remained still, his eyes fixed on the empty exit tunnel. A faint smirk played at the corner of his lips, fleeting and inscrutable.