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But the damage was done. The door burst open.

Maya peeked through the blinds. “Sir… tactical unit. D9. They’re outside. Helmets on.”

“The system is dead now. But I memorized the analogue chain. The real warrants. The real signatures. You want Cikgu? You’ll need my brain… not the server.”

He tapped his own temple.

He pulled up the geolocation. The logins weren’t from Russia or China. They were local. Bukit Aman itself. Three different terminals on Floor 7, two on Floor 2, and one… in the IGP’s private conference room.