The penthouse greeted Neil with a silence so dense it felt engineered. As he stepped inside, the stillness bent around him the way metal bends under controlled heat, silent, obedient, reshaped by force. His movements were precise, calculated, and almost graceful in their calmness, but beneath that calm lay the unmistakable energy of a man who had already chosen his path long before he reached the door. The city stretched out beneath the tall glass windows, a sprawling galaxy of lights flickering with life and carelessness. Yet Neil looked through the reflection, carving past the glow as if searching for the precise point where he would begin rearranging destiny. He didn’t pace or fidget; he didn’t allow himself the useless luxury of restlessness. He simply stood there, jaw set, spine straight, eyes collecting every detail of the skyline like a collector studying a priceless artifact he intended to steal.