I drag myself out of bed, muscles aching from the night's internal neural restructuring. The deep meditation work pushed my enhancement to its limits, leaving my body drained despite minimal physical exertion. Damn biological contradictions, physically exhausted from work that was entirely inside my own head.

  The corridors of Block D pulse with morning activity as I make my way toward CDC-4. Independents move with purpose between quarters and common areas, their conversations muted but constant, creating a background hum of human interaction. The facility's harsh lighting has reached full intensity, bathing everything in the same clinical illumination designed to eliminate shadows or comfort.

  A small group of independents cluster near an information panel, their expressions tense as they review updated assignments. I catch fragments of conversation as I pass, something about increased security in training facilities and new restrictions on movement between blocks. The pattern of disappearances seems to be accelerating facility-wide paranoia.

  CDC-4 is already crowded when I arrive, the line for nutrition allocation stretching toward the entrance. The air carries the bland smell of the gray paste that passes for food here, mixed with the body odor of too many people in too small a space with inadequate ventilation. I take my place in line, scanning the room for useful intelligence while waiting.

  Marcus's resistance faction occupies their usual tables near the exit, their positioning suggesting heightened alertness after last night's meeting. Volt catches my eye briefly before deliberately looking away, disappointment at my refusal to immediately commit to their protection clearly still fresh.

  When I reach the dispenser, the system scans my palm and announces: "Independent Asset 7249. Standard allocation, minus 22% sponsor enhancement factor. Administrative assessment preparation supplement approved."

  Interesting. The system already knows about my upcoming meeting with Karis and has adjusted nutrition accordingly. Another sign of how thoroughly the facility tracks and anticipates asset movements. The gray paste that slides out looks marginally different, slightly darker in color with visible protein granules mixed throughout.

  I collect my tray and find an unoccupied table near the wall, preferring solitude this morning to focus on the upcoming assessment. The neural architecture modifications need time to stabilize, and social interaction might disrupt the final integration process.

  The paste tastes marginally better than usual, additional protein and what might be trace stimulants to enhance cognitive function. The facility wants me sharp for Karis's assessment, another indication that the Integration Program values mental acuity in its candidates.

  As I eat, I notice several facility staff members enter CDC-4, not the usual monitors, but higher-level administrators in specialized uniforms. They move through the space with deliberate purpose, scanning independent assets and occasionally marking notations on their tablets. The pattern suggests a broader selection process beyond my individual assessment with Karis.

  "Mind if I join you?" comes a familiar voice. Iris stands beside my table, her iridescent scales unusually subdued this morning, suggesting stress or fatigue.

  I gesture to the empty seat, continuing to eat without interruption. Her presence is unexpected but potentially valuable, her information network might provide last-minute intelligence before the Karis assessment.

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  "You look like shit," she observes bluntly as she sits. "Rough night in the tunnels?"

  I shrug, maintaining neutral expression. "Just preparing."

  Her scales shift briefly to a pattern that might indicate concern. "Word about your assessment with Karis has spread. Unusual to see director-level interest trigger so quickly after combat performance."

  "Timing suggests predetermined selection criteria," I respond, keeping my voice low. "Combat was just final confirmation."

  Iris nods, her scales rippling with subtle color changes as she processes this assessment. "Integration candidates typically display specific neural architecture before being flagged. Your telekinetic patterns must have matched their templates."

  That confirms my approach to neural camouflage, creating surface architecture that displays expected patterns while hiding true capabilities beneath. If the Integration Program selects based on neural templates, presenting a deliberately flawed version might be enough to avoid immediate processing.

  "Options once selected?" I ask, focusing on practical next steps rather than speculation.

  "Limited," she admits, her scales darkening. "Most candidates disappear within days of initial assessment unless they have significant faction protection or demonstrate incompatibility with current program parameters."

  The facility administrators continue their sweep through CDC-4, approaching our section with methodical efficiency. Their scanning devices emit soft pulses of light as they pass each table, collecting data beyond standard monitoring capabilities.

  "They're mapping neural signatures," Iris whispers, noting my attention on the administrators. "Preliminary screening for potential candidates. Been happening every day for weeks now."

  When the administrators reach our table, their scanners pause over me for several seconds longer than standard. One makes a specific notation on their tablet before they continue their sweep without verbal comment.

  "Already flagged in their system," Iris observes once they've moved beyond hearing range. "Assessment with Karis is likely confirmation rather than initial screening."

  As I finish the enhanced nutritional paste, my tablet chimes with an updated notification: "Administrative Assessment: Director Karis, Sector 3, 1100 hours. Preparation period approved 0900-1030 hours in individual quarters."

  The facility is giving me dedicated time to prepare, another unusual protocol that suggests the Integration Program places significant value on optimal candidate condition during assessment. They want to see my best performance, not realizing I'm preparing to present a carefully constructed deception.

  "I should go," I tell Iris, rising from the table. "Preparation period before assessment."

  She nods, her scales shifting to a pattern I haven't seen before, something that might indicate respect mixed with concern. "Whatever you're planning, be careful. Karis has reputation for seeing through deception."

  "Just going to show exactly what they expect to see," I respond, which is technically true while concealing my actual strategy.

  As I leave CDC-4, I notice the facility administrators have completed their sweep and are conferring near the entrance, comparing notes on their tablets. Their attention shifts briefly to me as I pass, their expressions revealing nothing but their focused observation confirming my status as a subject of special interest.

  The corridors back to my quarters seem longer this morning, the weight of the upcoming assessment creating a strange distortion in my perception of time and space. Other independents give me a wider berth than usual, either sensing the administrative attention focused on me or responding to rumors about my scheduled meeting with Karis.

  My quarters await, the cramped space now serving as final preparation ground for whatever comes next. The neural camouflage needs reinforcement before facing whatever scanning technologies the Integration Program employs. Two hours of dedicated preparation time should be sufficient to strengthen the deception while ensuring my true capabilities remain accessible but hidden.