He reached the summit of The Spire, skidding to a halt in front of a gleaming chrome door. A man in a tailored suit was waiting, looking impatient.

"Copy that, Elias," Sarah’s voice crackled from dispatch. "You’ve got a three-minute window before the automated peacekeepers cycle their patrol. Move."

"Package secure," Elias muttered into his comms. "Destination: The Spire, Penthouse 3."

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