That’s what flickered on every screen in the building: two pale green words on a dead black field. The televisions in the break room, the monitors at reception, the massive display wall in the lobby—all frozen in that same sterile mantra. Please Stand By.
“Who are you?” Lena gripped her mop handle like a weapon.
Please Stand By.
But as she walked floor by floor, checking offices and cubicles, she realized she was. Seventy-three employees, plus three janitors. All of them in the same trance: eyes moving, lips whispering sequences of numbers. Some sat upright at their desks, fingers frozen over keyboards. Others lay on the floor like discarded dolls. The air grew warmer. The hum deepened.
Outside, through the tinted windows, Lena saw the city skyline. Every light was on. Every screen she could see—from the traffic monitors to the billboards to the distant office towers—glowed the same two words. Please Stand By
Lena looked at her mop. Then at the woman. Then at the singing servers.
“Hendricks?” She shook his shoulder. He didn’t respond, but his lips moved. She leaned closer. That’s what flickered on every screen in the
The green-eyed woman’s smile didn’t waver. “The update isn’t finished. We’re still expanding. But for now… you have a head start.”