Julian Vance knelt beside the iron gate of the north stairwell, his six-volt lantern illuminating the brick jamb.
His Seiko 5 watch read 02:41 AM.
Nineteen minutes remained before the 03:00 AM master time-clock reset.
Beside the tall, diamond-paned wire-glass window overlooking the void, fresh lettering was scrawled directly across the red brick in thick, oily strokes of carmine-red chalk.
The chalk was still wet, weeping tiny droplets of crimson pigment down the brick mortar.
Julian read the words through the red lens of his lantern:
[PLANTED LIE-RULE M-111: EXAM CANDIDATES.]
[ALL CANDIDATES MUST WALK FORWARD UP THE STAIRS IN SINGLE FILE.]
