A city flickers. The code begins to sing.When a buried signal crawls onto Boston's grid and turns light into a weapon, Major Cass Morgan is tasked to lead civilians out of the kill zone and hunt the source. Her only constant in the stutter of failing time: Dr. Gabe Reyes, a folklorist-engineer who reads ghost stories like field manuals and writes countermeasures in the margins.Blocks freeze and thaw, glass hisses into salt, and a teal glow from a telecom annex whispers a name no one wants to hear. EIDOLON. To stop it, Cass and Gabe have to move like first responders and think like thieves. RGB flares cut evacuation lanes. Breadcrumb beacons mark a safe return. A mercenary deadman sits on a cheap relay that could light the city on fire. The catwalk above the core dissolves under their boots. The rifle meant to save them fails twice.It will take a copper charm wire, a synced pulse, and one brutal dive through the haze to snap a breaker and shatter the lattice like brittle sugar. By dawn, the chain of custody is airtight and the evidence bag hums. By the time the plane doors open at Logan, the patch in that bag is gone.You'll get: A razor-clean urban thriller: procedural detail, chain-of-custody realism, and leadership under pressure.Science with teeth: frequencies, lattice behavior, and hacks that feel like tools, not magic.Atmosphere that breathes: ghostlit streets, rack rooms that thrum, code that falls like snow.Two leads worth following: Cass' courtroom-honed calm with civilians, Gabe's precise, human-scaled fixes.Escalation without letup: civic shepherding to annex standoff to a catwalk over the churn.An ending that satisfies, then lingers: the skyline steadies, a buoy blinks in the harbor, and the water keeps its secrets.If you like techno-thrillers with a haunted edge, open the file and step onto the line.