Infiltrate the Investigation Bureau
Washington, D.C. — Investigation Bureau Headquarters
At this moment, the Investigation Bureau was also under attack by an unidentified cyber force.
First, the data center powered on automatically. Then, every hard drive began operating at full capacity, and the network's throughput skyrocketed to its absolute limit.
"What the hell is going on?!"
Director Elliott roared in the central control room, his face flushed with anger.
"Which nation possesses such overwhelming cyber capabilities? Is it Russia, or someone else?"
Fury coursed through Elliott's veins. Since its inception, the Federal Investigation Bureau had never suffered such a concentrated and devastating cyber assault.
The scale, the intensity—
As a man with a background in cybersecurity, Elliott could feel a chilling dread creeping up his spine. This wasn't the work of ordinary hackers. This was the work of a god—a deity ruling over the digital world, flooding their defenses with an unstoppable cyber tsunami.
The multimillion-dollar security firewall, designed to withstand even the most advanced threats, crumbled like wet paper against the relentless onslaught. The Bureau's entire digital infrastructure was laid bare, exposed like a defenseless prey in the hands of an unseen predator.
"Director! We've traced the attacker's IP address, and it's… it's…"
A technician hesitated, his face twitching nervously.
"SPEAK!"
Elliott bellowed, his breath heavy, his patience worn thin.
"Sir… the attack is coming from… your own computer."
The words fell like a hammer. The technician shut his eyes, bracing himself for the inevitable explosion of rage.
"BULLSHIT!"
Elliott's anger reached a boiling point. He was sitting right in front of his computer. No one else had touched it. And yet…
"Sir! Our surveillance systems are being accessed!"
Another technician shouted in panic.
"They're pulling every single surveillance feed we have!"
"FUCK!"
With a violent sweep of his arm, Elliott sent everything on his desk crashing to the floor.
He didn't know what the attacker wanted with their surveillance footage, but a horrifying thought crept into his mind.
"Cut the power! Physically sever all network connections in the building! NOW!"
Elliott's furious order echoed through the headquarters.
In an instant, the entire building was plunged into darkness.
And yet—
The computer screens still flickered with their eerie blue glow.
From the server room, the deafening hum of machines persisted. The servers were still running at full throttle, their operations unaffected by the blackout.
Even after physically disconnecting the internet, data continued to surge through the network.
"What the hell is happening?!"
Elliott's voice trembled. His eyes darted across the room, struggling to comprehend the impossible sight before him.
The power was cut. The internet was disconnected. And yet…
"Pull out every single power cable!"
A terrifying realization struck Elliott. The attacker had seized control of the city's power grid, rerouting electricity exclusively to the Bureau's servers.
The mere thought sent shivers down his spine.
He didn't want to believe it.
He couldn't believe it.
Yet the cold, undeniable truth loomed over him.
His staff rushed into the server room, desperately yanking power cables from their sockets.
Inside, the room had become an inferno.
The servers, running under extreme load, had pushed the temperature to over 100 degrees Fahrenheit. Some units were even beginning to emit smoke.
But just as a technician reached for a final power cable—
The servers fell silent.
The deafening fan noise, the grinding of hard drives—
Gone.
In an instant, everything returned to normal. The network throughput, once peaking at an astronomical 80 TB per second, plummeted to zero.
The attack was over.
Elliott collapsed into his chair, drenched in sweat.
It was too late.
The Investigation Bureau had been completely stripped bare. Every classified document, every agent's identity, every black operation, every piece of sensitive intelligence—
All of it had been stolen.
No secrecy remained.
"Director!"
A panicked technician ran up to Elliott, his face drained of color.
"What now?" Elliott growled, barely holding himself together.
"Sir… our financial accounts have been breached. One billion dollars… is gone."
Silence.
For a long moment, Elliott didn't speak.
His fingers clenched into fists, his body shaking with barely contained rage.
"Find them. I don't care what it takes. I want to know who they are. I want their name. I want their face."
Elliott was on the verge of snapping. He needed a target—someone to unleash his fury upon.
Then, the phone rang.
A secure line.
Elliott snatched it up.
"Director Elliott, this is the Secretary of Defense. You need to come to the Pentagon. Now."
A grim foreboding settled over him.
He had a feeling—
The Investigation Bureau wasn't the only agency under attack tonight.
And if his worst fears were true…
Elliott didn't even want to imagine the consequences.
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