The monitor blinked.
Again, the hallway door opened with no one in frame—no blur, no silhouette, not even a shift in pixel alignment. The light above the entry flickered, responding to a presence that shouldn't exist. And yet… something was there.
"Are they actually invisible to cameras?" I asked again, quieter this time.
Alexis didn't answer. She was frozen, eyes locked to the screen. Sienna adjusted Camille's limp form on the bench, her gaze darting between us.
"That shouldn't be possible," Alexis muttered finally. "Even skill-based cloaking has a trace. Heat signatures, light refraction. You can't erase that unless—"
The door on the feed hissed again.
It was getting closer.
"Unless what?" I asked, already scanning the console for overrides or motion history.
Alexis hesitated. "Unless it's not them doing the cloaking."
My breath caught.
I looked back at Camille.
Still unconscious.
Still shivering.
