A master control anomaly somewhere in the depths of a server warehouse, and a glittering chain snaps, sending a spike and then a crash around the world, computers reacting and counter-reacting in milliseconds. Currencies veer and slide in the darkness, but as the sun breaks over the larger cities, the system begins to correct itself at a slow and human speed.

A response is drawn up, somewhere just off the grid. A ragged group gather around a trestle table in a squatted warehouse in a city where dawn is yet to break, and bring their plans forward.

Replace “Program” with “Activist” and “Flynn” with “Veteran”.