Frustration built — there was no pretending otherwise. It settled into their shoulders, into the silence between attempts, into the particular kind of quiet that comes when people are tired but still trying. Atlas stopped groaning after a while. Mira's expression tightened and stayed that way. Jelo just kept looking at his hand, adjusting, recalibrating after every reset.
But this time—
They didn't fall apart.
⸻
There was something different about the way they came back together after each failure. No blame. No sideways looks. No one said what went wrong or you were off or try harder. Just a beat of silence — the kind that had its own texture by now, worn smooth from repetition — then movement. Everyone repositioning. Everyone already thinking about what to change.
