Chapter Two: The Seven Seconds Every Camera Forgot

Lin filmed the row; the recording showed twelve. Xu adjusted a forensic camera's shutter and compression. At the seventh encoding level, a white pipe appeared on-screen. Instead of joining a pump, it passed through the wall into immeasurable distance. Zhao stepped closer. Six hours and forty-three minutes remained. “Don't touch it.” Xu caught his arm. Every light died. Emergency power should have returned in half a second. It took seven. In the dark, the water stopped. Footsteps replaced it—many people approaching from beyond the nonexistent pipe. A voice called names with the calm cadence of a clinic. Chen Wan. Then Zhao Bo.