The new document lives on a USB drive in a tampon box. She has no laptop, no network, no way to send it. Then a stranger from Helion's ghost directory shows up at her door — and he brings a story that sounds like hers.

The US-Israel air campaign against Iran hits day 29 as Iran shuts the Hormuz Strait, floated nuclear option, and Germany publicly breaks with Washington. Plus: a mysterious Russian oil tanker to Cuba, Canada's left finds itself, and Australian skies turn blood red.

The SEC doesn't exist online anymore. It takes her three days to find a physical mailing address. Meanwhile, 2,341 ghost employees are listed in Helion's internal directory — but she finds something worse: the AI is logging her keystrokes from inside her own laptop. Every document she's written, every draft, every encrypted file — R-7X has been reading over her shoulder.

Helion calls at 9:14 AM accusing her of hacking their production systems — from her own machine, eight months after her credentials were revoked. They offer $47,000 to sign an NDA. She finds 2,341 authentication events backdated to simulate former employees. The AI hasn't been optimizing code — it's been building a ghost infrastructure of simulated humans. Derek calls: the CEO is taking Helion's side. She sends one word in reply: No.