Elias froze halfway to the ventilation shaft. "What do you mean?"
The doctor handed Elias a manila envelope containing his 'release papers' and a set of car keys. Elias walked out of the facility, squinting at the harsh, real-world sunlight. He got into the sleek black sedan waiting for him and drove.
"You've been in the simulation for six months," the doctor said, walking over to unhook the electrodes. "You were a high-level corporate spy caught in the 2024 raids. This 'heist' was your final psychological evaluation to see if your kleptomanic tendencies were cured."
Elias backed away, his hand instinctively reaching for a knife that was no longer there. "Who are you? What is this?"
"The power grid for the whole block just flatlined. Someone else is here, Elias. Someone bigger."
The world outside the car windows began to pixelate into a void of rushing code. Elias Thorne didn't scream. He just gripped the diamond—the only thing that felt heavy, the only thing that felt real—and waited for Level 8.
"Seven minutes, Elias," a voice crackled in his earpiece. It was Sarah, his handler, watching the thermal feeds from a safe house three miles away. "The perimeter guards reset their patrol at 02:07. You have exactly seven minutes before the floor sensors reactivate." Elias smirked. He didn't need seven. He needed three.
With the grace of a ghost, he bypassed the laser lattice. His fingers, steady as a surgeon's, input the bypass codes he’d spent six months and four murders to acquire. At the four-minute mark, the glass casing hissed open. He swapped the Star for a weighted replica—a cliché, he knew, but the physics of the pressure plate demanded it.