Page 94 of Cold Ignition

His mouth curved faintly.

“They’ll see it,” he murmured.

Of course they would. The Directorate didn’t miss things like this. Didn’t ignore anomalies. Especially not ones tied to him. That was the point.

Luca shifted, bringing up a secondary screen—one that tracked external probing in real time. It was quiet now.

It wouldn’t stay that way.

Because this—this was his version of the circuit.

But the same principle. Draw them out. Let them think they were choosing the moment. Let them believe they were in control. A soft chime broke the silence.

Luca’s gaze snapped to the screen.

There. A ping. Subtle. Buried deep enough that most systems would have ignored it. He didn’t. Another followed. Then a third.

Different points but the same signature. His fingers stilled for just a fraction of a second. Then resumed—faster now, tracking, isolating, peeling back layers as the intrusion attempted to map what he’d built.

“They took the bait,” he said quietly.

No satisfaction in it. Just confirmation. The probes sharpened. Less cautious now. More confident. They were good. Very good.

But they were also predictable. Because they believed this was theirs to take.

Luca let them in—just enough. Watched how they moved.

He saw it in the way they adjusted. In how quickly they adapted to his architecture. Not guessing. Not learning from scratch.

No—they knew this style.

Knew him.

Luca’s gaze hardened slightly as the final piece slid into place.

“Good,” he said softly. “Come closer.”

Because that was the truth of it. This wasn’t defense. This wasn’t survival. This was a hunt. And for the first time—he wasn’t the one being tracked.

He was the one setting the trap.

The system stabilized fully, humming quietly across the network as the Directorate’s presence pressed deeper into it, drawn by design, guided without ever realizing it.

Luca watched it happen.

Mapping them the same way they’d tried to map him.

A slow, precise smile formed.

“They want something I built,” he said under his breath.

His gaze flicked briefly to the reflection in the darkened screen—his own eyes looking back at him, steady, unflinching.

“Now they can come and take it.”

A beat.

Then quieter.