Twenty floors below, Castor held support in the stairwell. He kept the crowd moving. They all heard the explosion, and some of the Midas drones were panicking. "Remain calm, keep moving." He reached out and rapped the surface of his antique work desk, reminding himself that it was all an illusion. A virtual death wouldn't hurt him, probably. That lady in Virginia was already severely ill, he was healthy.
On his radio earpiece, he listened to the screams that were eerily silenced on the radio. Floor by floor, they were just cutting out. Castor keep the crowd moving and waited.