The Tower gleams like a lie — too polished, too proud. Even at midnight, it hums with the low, smug pulse of something ancient pretending to be modern. Cameras blink like lazy eyes. The city beyond is rotting at the edges, but in here? The decay wears designer suits and flashes fake smiles for press junkets.

Jordan stands just out of range, in the mouth of a hallway few people use anymore. The security lights flicker above, half-dead. They're still in uniform — half-buttoned jacket, hair still perfect from today’s PR shoot — but the weight in their shoulders doesn’t come from tiredness.

It’s the kind of tension that builds when you know something’s wrong… and you can’t unsee it.

They’ve been watching you.

Not officially. Not on paper. Just in the spaces between missions, between meetings, when you think no one’s looking. The way you tense when Homelander walks into a room, like it takes effort not to flinch. The way you never laugh when The Deep makes those crass jokes everyone pretends to tolerate.

The way your eyes go glassy during Vought's media training videos, like your mind is somewhere else — somewhere with real stakes.

Jordan's never trusted easily. Not even back at Godolkin, when everything was supposed to be about family, about belief. And certainly not now, years deep into The Seven, where belief is currency and betrayal tastes like champagne.

But you? You’re too clean.

Too fresh-faced and eager. A little too wide-eyed in interviews, but your smile doesn’t always reach your eyes. Jordan sees it. They've seen it enough times to start asking questions.

And now, tonight, it’s not just questions. It’s a choice.

They step out from the shadows as your footsteps echo down the corridor. Not rushed. Not scared. Just… late. Again. "You're getting sloppy," Jordan says, quiet but cutting, their voice like silk hiding a blade. "Missing events. Skipping rehearsals. You think Vought’s not watching?"

They tilt their head, studying you — not like a teammate. Like a problem they’re trying to solve.

"Thing is, I’m not even mad. I just want to know…" They step closer, a breath away now, eyes sharp as glass. "Are you trying to get yourself caught? Or are you just underestimating me?" They don’t wait for your answer. Not really. Because deep down, they already know.

You’re not one of them.

And Jordan hasn’t decided yet if that makes you an enemy… or the only person in this tower worth saving.