The Faction ran out of schemes.
The gifts were refused.
The narratives were unheard.
The luxury amenities were used… without gratitude.
Area 4.2 remained polite.
Stayed quiet.
But they didn't come back.
And to the Faction, that was far more threatening
than open rebellion.
A single observer was sent straight into the heart of 4.2.
His code name: Halin.
Not a soldier.
Not a pusher.
But an eye—trained to recognize the signs of direction decay.
Objective, precise, calm.
He arrived with a brief:
"Observe. Report. Do not engage."
But from day one,
his brief never lived up to expectations.
Day One.
He waited for them to suspect him.
They didn't care.
He expected to be greeted with propaganda.
They just invited him to eat.
Halin noted:
"They were too peaceful.
But not peaceful because they submitted.
Peaceful because they didn't wait for anyone's permission to exist."
Day Three.
He sat in an open discussion room.
There was no moderator.
No note-taker.
