Ellie’s mind raced. The NSP was supposed to be unbreakable. Its zero-trust architecture meant every request re-verified itself a thousand times a second. But this… this was elegant. A phantom packet riding the authentication wave, mimicking the signature of a retired admin account. Account #0007. Her old mentor’s account. The one they’d decommissioned after he died.
Ellie reached for her phone. No signal. The deadman switch on the wall—the one that would physically sever the core—was already melted into slag. security breach nsp
> Look behind you.
“Ghost in the machine,” she muttered. Ellie’s mind raced