The city went dark at 10:47 p.m.
One second, Lucan Tower was a constellation.
The next, it was an island of glass inside a sea of shadow.
Ava froze mid-sentence as the power cut out. The hum of servers died.
Only the emergency lights came alive — a dim, pulsing red that turned the steel walls into veins.
Then the door clicked shut.
Automatic lockdown.
"Backup generators?" she asked, calm but sharp.
"Offline," Ethan said, already checking his phone. No signal.
They stood there, two outlines in crimson light.
Silence thickened.
Ava's voice broke it first.
"So much for 'impenetrable systems.'"
Ethan's mouth curved slightly. "It's impenetrable. That's the problem."
"Meaning?"
"The system locks down all executive floors in a total blackout," he said. "No one leaves until main power reboots."
Ava blinked. "You're saying we're trapped?"
"For now."
"How long?"
He looked up. "A few hours."
She exhaled slowly. "Of course."
They moved around the room, both pretending to be busy — her reorganizing files by flashlight, him checking the generator feed on the wall panel.
The quiet between them felt alive, too close, too human.
Ethan finally spoke. "You're not afraid."
"Of the dark?" she asked.
"Of being locked in a room with me."
Ava turned, her expression unreadable in the red light. "Should I be?"
He met her gaze. "Most people would."
"I'm not most people."
"No," he said quietly. "You're not."
Something shifted then — a small, invisible line in the air.
Not movement. Awareness.
Minutes passed. Maybe hours.
Ava sat on the edge of the table, arms crossed. "So this is your idea of a leadership retreat?"
Ethan looked up from the floor console. "If it were, there'd be better lighting."
"Or maybe this is perfect," she said. "You finally can't look down at anyone."
He straightened slowly. "You think I look down on you?"
"I think you look at everyone like a variable," she said. "Something to be solved."
He stepped closer, the red glow cutting across his face. "And what do you think you are, Ava?"
She met his eyes. "The equation you didn't predict."
Ethan smiled, small and genuine — the kind that didn't belong in boardrooms.
For the first time in months, he didn't look like Lucan. He just looked like a man.
The rain started outside, faint at first, then steady.
It hit the glass walls like static.
They stood near the window, watching the city flicker in the distance — emergency lights, sirens, a pulse of life that kept going even when power failed.
"Do you miss it?" Ava asked.
"What?"
"Control."
He thought about it. Then: "No. I miss believing it meant anything."
Ava looked at him, the red light soft on her skin. "That's the first honest thing you've said in weeks."
"I've said a few," he murmured. "You just don't like hearing them."
"Try me."
He turned to her fully. "You make this place feel human. That terrifies me."
The words hit harder than they should have.
Ava didn't move. She didn't breathe.
Outside, thunder rolled over the skyline — low, long, deliberate.
"You don't get to say that," she said finally.
"I just did."
"Then you shouldn't look at me like that."
He almost smiled. "Like what?"
"Like you're about to stop pretending you don't care."
For a heartbeat, the tower stopped feeling like a building.
It felt like confession.
The generator coughed alive at 2:03 a.m.
Lights surged back, harsh and white.
Reality reasserted itself like a slap.
They both blinked, the spell broken.
Ethan reached for the panel, voice steady again. "System's stable."
Ava stepped back, mask returning. "Good. Now we can go back to pretending this never happened."
He hesitated, then nodded once. "If that's what you need."
"It's what you need," she said.
He didn't deny it.
He just opened the door, the cool air rushing in from the hall.
As she passed him, their shoulders brushed — a flicker, nothing more.
But it felt like static caught fire.
Neither turned back.
Outside, the city flickered awake again.
Inside, neither of them would sleep.
Because both of them knew the truth:
It wasn't the blackout that scared them.
It was what the light had revealed.
To be continued…