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The figure stopped. Turned. Looked up .

He hated them.

“That’s a thermal cloak,” Draya whispered. “Mil-spec. Current gen.” ac3 windows

Kai turned from the window. The AC3 lattice shifted, adapting to his absence, resuming its default sweep. For a moment, the pane went dark—true black, not the usual semitransparent overlay—and in that darkness, he saw it. A flicker. A crack. Not in the glass. In the signal . The figure stopped