1–5: Mira discovers her electric sensitivity, forms the Circle (Jax, Nia, Sol), and meets Ari, who shows her kindness without leverage.
6–9: The Circle experiments in safe bays; Mira learns to modulate instead of spike. Ari feeds them quiet intel from Civil Rails—maintenance gaps, panel blind spots—insisting it’s repair, not rebellion. Closeness grows between Mira and Ari; the Circle teases her, and she admits it, almost cheerful.
10–13: A near-miss: Mira shorts a corridor during a drill. Director Lian suspects pattern-talk but lacks proof. Sol’s grandmother’s old maps reveal a decommissioned substation that could mask bigger work. The Circle debates: hide or use it? Mira votes use it; first fracture inside the group.
14–16: They run a night test at the substation. Mira holds a loop steady for 37 seconds—the longest yet—while Ari watches the exterior. Afterward, Ari kisses her against a relay cabinet and says, “You’re allowed to want things.” Nia catches them; she’s happy for Mira but warns: wanting makes you visible.
17–18: Visibility arrives. Director Kara connects Tile 9’s blackout to Mira’s route data. The Circle scatters contingency plans. Jax builds a radio shunt to misdirect panel logs; Sol copies key files. Mira and Ari talk future—power grids, train tables, maybe a flat with a window. For a moment, the cage seems negotiable.
19: The Directors move: Jax’s build is found. He takes a re-education deal to Track Maintenance. The Circle meets one last time in Laundry-Bay 3. No tears—they count to 37, Ari’s hand in Mira’s, and disperse. That night, Mira does the thing she practiced: she steps off the route and opens a service panel in Annex. The sparrow graffiti gets a full wing. She leaves a marker—a saltcedar leaf—for whoever’s next.
20: Next day, Mira returns to counting rails. She walks Junction 4, straight collar tab, laces double-knotted. She passes Annex, sees the sparrow’s new wing, smiles small, and keeps walking. Ari’s on shift elsewhere; they’ll meet after work. The cage is still there. Mira is still inside it. But she knows how switches work now—and she’s sitting with her hand not touching anything, _ready_. The cage hasn’t broken. She has.