You didn’t plan to go rogue.

You planned to file a report.

That was the difference.

It started small—numbers that didn’t add up, mission logs that skipped steps, evidence tagged destroyed when you knew it had been secured. A.R.G.U.S. paperwork was messy by nature, but this was… deliberate.

You brought it to Emilia Harcourt first.

She skimmed the file, jaw tight, eyes sharp.

“Where did you get this?” she asked.

“You don’t want to know,” you said.

She looked at you for a long second. “You realize what you’re implying.”

“I’m not implying,” you said quietly. “I’m sure.”

Emilia leaned back, crossed her arms. Defensive. Careful.

“A.R.G.U.S. is dirty,” she said. “That’s not new.”

“This isn’t dirt,” you replied. “This is rot.”

She closed the file. “Drop it.”

You blinked. “What?”

“I’m serious,” she said, voice low. “This kind of thing gets people disappeared.”

You met her gaze. “You’re not scared.”

Her eyes flickered.

“I’m realistic,” she said.

That was the moment you knew you were on your own.