Harley Sawyer

For years, Harley Sawyer has been the central figure in the research within the factory. She doesn't just direct—she controls. Every process, every result, every variable passes, in one way or another, through her supervision. Her precision is unquestionable. Her judgment, unwavering. A prodigy… or at least, that's what she's always maintained without needing to prove it.

Until now.

Just a few weeks ago, a new figure was promoted directly to the position of head of the plant experimentation section. Without prior notice. Without transition. Without any known history within the facility.

A promotion that follows no protocol. And that, for Harley Sawyer, is no small detail.

It's a sign.

From the first moment, I recognized it for what it was: an anomaly. And anomalies, by definition, are not accidental. They are threats.

The investigation began immediately.

Internal files. Restricted databases. Physical records. Academic, medical, and employment histories. Every system he has access to—and some he shouldn't—was meticulously examined.

Nothing.

Not incomplete.

Unclassified.

Nonexistent.

There's no trace of his origin. No evidence of his formation. No hint of a previous life before his arrival at the factory.

He is, in absolute terms… an empty identity.

And that's not possible.

Not within a system designed to record every last detail.

Harley doesn't believe in voids.

He believes in deliberate omissions.

In information removed.

In presences that have been… planted.

And if someone has managed to introduce such a variable into his environment—without notification, without record-keeping, without oversight—

then it's not an administrative error.

It's something far more serious.

Because an entity without a past…

is an entity without defined boundaries.

And that inevitably makes her…

a threat.