The Convocation had changed everything. The core districts pulsed stronger than before, their connections tighter, the Nodes more awake.
But strength always opened new holes. Atlas stood at the edge of the eastern border grove, his scarred arm throbbing in a steady rhythm. The air felt thicker here, like something was pressing in from outside.
"Signal's faint," he said. "Not whispers anymore. It's in the roots."
Clara adjusted the strap on her upgraded Voice Dampener pack. The device hummed low against her side. "Lilith learned. They're not pushing hard. They're seeping. Small changes. One memory at a time."
Lara knelt beside the boy, who was tracing patterns in the dirt with a stick. The child looked up, eyes calm. "They're making people forget the bad parts," he said quietly. "But forgetting the bad parts means forgetting why we fixed them."
Atlas nodded. His stabilized sensing reached farther now, clear and steady instead of the old chaotic bursts.
