He didn’t run. Instead, he smiled. Because buried in that fragmented photo was something the device hadn’t shown on screen—a watermark, embedded in the metadata. A location. An underground bunker beneath the old docks, still active, still breathing.

“Rarbgdump,” he whispered, and the light flicked to green.

More data surfaced. Employee records. Security footage thumbnails. A single photograph, half-corrupted—a man in a yellow hard hat, waving at the camera. Viktor’s hand trembled. That was Yuri. His brother.