The weight of the Composite Master Bureau Seal felt like fifteen pounds of solid artillery shell in Julian Vance’s hands.
The brass cylinder was hot against his palms. Through the fluted metal grip, Julian could feel the rhythmic pulse of the store’s electrical ground. The negative direct current from Register 1 thrummed in steady harmony with the seven fused dies at the base of the stamp.
The digital clock on Register 1 changed.
01:58:14 AM
Only one minute and forty-six seconds remained before the two o’clock threshold.
Outside on Old Ferry Road, the streetlights still burned with dull arterial crimson.
The brawl between the seven headless Director husks came to an abrupt halt. As if pulled by an invisible tripwire, all seven figures froze in the flooded street.
The husk with the Payroll medallion lowered its bent iron ledger rod.
