For three seconds, nobody moved.
Then the emergency lights came on.
Red lights washed across Bay Three, turning every face into a shadow.
I stared at the screen.
REMOTE OVERRIDE ENABLED.
Below it:
USER: ECOLE_ADMIN
My account.
My old employee account.
The same account Horizon had supposedly disabled when Richard terminated me at 11:07 that morning.
Mason whispered, “That’s impossible.”
Walter stepped closer.
“You didn’t log in?”
“No.”
Richard was staring at the screen.
“What does that mean?”
I turned toward him.
“It means someone wants this machine to believe I’m controlling it.”
Richard’s expression hardened.
“Can they actually use your credentials?”
“Not if Horizon followed basic security procedure.”
Mason shook his head.
“They didn’t.”
Everyone looked at him.
He swallowed.
“Your account wasn’t completely removed.”
Richard immediately turned toward him.
“Why?”
“Because IT keeps terminated accounts archived for thirty days.”
I stared at Richard.
“Archived accounts shouldn’t have remote machine privileges.”
“They don’t,” Mason said.
“Then how is my account active?”
He didn’t answer.
I stepped toward the electrical cabinet.
“Disconnect the network.”
Richard stopped me.
“Wait.”
I looked at him.
“If you disconnect it, could we lose the controller?”
“No.”
“Then why are you stopping me?”
He hesitated.
I knew exactly what he was thinking.
If I disconnected the network, whoever was remotely controlling the machine would lose access.
But if Richard was involved somehow, he might not want that.
I reached for the emergency network isolation switch.
The moment I pulled it, the controller went black.
The red warning disappeared.
The factory became silent.
For the first time in several minutes, I could hear the ventilation system.
Then Mason’s phone rang.
He looked at the screen.
“It’s IT.”
He answered.
“Hello?”
His face changed.
“What?”
He listened.
Then looked at me.
“Your account just logged into the corporate network.”
My stomach tightened.
“From where?”
Mason asked.
His expression became even more confused.
“Bay Three.”
I looked at the machine.
The network cable was physically disconnected.
Yet somewhere inside Horizon’s system, my account was still showing as active.
“Tell IT to freeze everything connected to my credentials.”
Mason relayed the message.
Richard stepped toward me.
“You’re making this sound like someone is framing you.”
“They are.”
“For what?”
I looked at the altered parameters.
“Destroying the Meridian qualification run.”
Richard’s face went pale.
“And making it look like I did it.”
Nobody spoke.
Then the bay doors opened.
A security officer walked in.
Behind him was Claire from HR.
She looked nervous.
“Richard, we need to talk.”
“About what?”
She glanced at me.
“Ethan’s termination paperwork.”
I frowned.
“What about it?”
Claire held up a folder.
“The termination was processed at 11:07.”
“I know.”
“But his system access wasn’t revoked until 11:38.”
I stared at her.
“That’s thirty-one minutes.”
“Yes.”
“Who requested the delay?”
Claire looked uncomfortable.
“I did.”
“Why?”
She lowered her voice.
“Because Richard told me to wait.”
Every eye in the bay turned toward him.
Richard immediately said, “That’s not what happened.”
Claire looked stunned.
“You told me the transition needed to be smooth.”
Richard’s face hardened.
“I meant his payroll access.”
“You specifically said not to disable his engineering credentials until the end of the day.”
Silence.
I felt something cold settle in my stomach.
Richard had kept my credentials alive.
Then someone had used them.
But why?
Was Richard trying to frame me?
Or had someone used Richard’s own decision against him?
Before I could ask, Mason shouted from the laptop.
“Ethan!”
I turned.
He had found something.
A remote access log.
One session had originated from an external device.
The device name was:
TP-VANCE-07
Tyler Vance.
I stared at the screen.
“Where is Tyler?”
Nobody answered.
Walter said quietly, “He left about twenty minutes ago.”
“Where?”
“Parking lot.”
I pulled out my phone.
“Call security.”
Richard shook his head.
“Don’t.”
I looked at him.
“Why?”
“Because we don’t know if Tyler did anything.”
I smiled bitterly.
“Five minutes ago you wanted me to repair a two-million-dollar machine without asking questions.”
I pointed at the screen.
“Now that the evidence points toward your favorite engineer, suddenly we need patience.”
Richard said nothing.
Then Mason’s laptop beeped.
A new message appeared.
REMOTE CONNECTION REQUESTED.
The machine wasn’t connected to the network anymore.
Yet someone was still trying to access it.
Mason looked at me.
“Ethan…”
I stared at the screen.
Then I realized something.
The remote connection wasn’t coming from outside.
It was coming from another machine inside Horizon.
I looked toward the control room.
“Who else has access to the manufacturing server?”
Mason whispered one name.
“Richard.”
The room went silent.
Then the factory doors opened again.
Tyler walked in.
He was holding a USB drive.
And he looked terrified.
One Comment on “PART 3 — THE ACCOUNT THAT WASN’T MINE The machine controller flickered in the darkness.”