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NITA (yelling) You’ll have to see it for yourself!

INT. WAREHOUSE – NIGHT – 02:13 AM

WHISTLE‑BLOWER (V.O.) The truth always finds a way.

A flickering CCTV MONITOR sits on a dusty console. The timestamp blinks.

SUDDENLY, RED STROBES flash. GUARDS burst in, night‑vision goggles glowing.

NITA (V.O.) Night’s the only time the ghosts of this place feel alive.

She plugs it into a terminal. A video auto‑plays.

Nita’s hand hovers over the USB. The server rack begins to sputter.

She spots a USB drive glinting under a single shaft of light. The label reads “NITA”.

NITA (softly) It’s… for me?

NITA (V.O.) Sometimes the only way to be seen is to disappear.

Nita watches, eyes widening.

FADE TO BLACK.

CUT TO:

WHISTLE‑BLOWER (ON SCREEN) If you’re watching this, Nita, you know the truth. Spectra tracks everything—your coffee, your steps. This data… could end it.

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