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Jax slapped the data spike into the port. The interface was archaic, a remnant of the pre-war industrial boom. The screen on his gauntlet flushed a violent crimson, characters scrolling faster than the human eye could track.
Below him, the massive intake turbines of the Syaliong complex hummed, a deep, vibrating thrum that he felt in his teeth. This was the only blind spot in the grid, a seven-second gap in the rotational scan of the sentinel drones. It was the "Syaliong 7" protocol—a glitch in the legacy code that the corporate overseers were too lazy or too cheap to patch.