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A TOAST TO FORESIGHT
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Martin Vosk narrowed his eyes. “What do you mean by the First Glitch?”

The other three men mirrored his confusion, leaning slightly forward. Their expressions were a mixture of curiosity and unease.

Even Leonardo Feng, usually stoic and unreadable, furrowed his brow.

Tariq Khyber didn’t rush his answer. He let the question hang for a beat, taking a slow sip of his wine before setting the glass down with care.

The glow from the lanterns above cast subtle flickers on his sapphire pin.

“The First Glitch,” he said at last, with a low voice. “was the beginning of the end for Carl Bowen’s empire.”

Martin frowned, still skeptical. “You're speaking in riddles, Khyber.”

Tariq folded his hands on the table. “Two weeks ago, the Bowen Data Centre in East Ridge experienced what the public was told was a ‘routine systems malfunction.’ Power outage. Minor fire. That’s the version given to the press.” He leaned forward, with intense eyes. “But the truth? It was a full-scale catastrophe.”

Theo Baine
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