The file sat on Elias’s desktop, a stark icon against a wallpaper of nebula clouds: undercover2.7z .
Suddenly, the audio file—which had ended minutes ago—restarted on its own. But the rain was gone. Instead, a voice, low and distorted, whispered through his headphones: "Check the window, Elias. We're still undercover." undercover2.7z
Elias opened a browser to map the coordinates. As the map loaded, his heart hammered against his ribs. The red pin dropped directly onto the empty lot behind his apartment complex. The file sat on Elias’s desktop, a stark