The crowns were in. The belt held. Now we had to teach the moon how to notice.
Kade rolled a fresh plan across the Tycho ops table—no projector, just paper and the kind of pencil that leaves decisions behind it.
"Two layers," he said. "A quiet lattice that feels, and a ring of ghosts that lie."
"Define quiet," Reika said.
"Nothing that blinks," Kade answered. "No beacons. Stone, sigil, and soft current. If a stranger breathes near our spine, the lattice tingles. The belt hum changes half a note. That's all."
Rose tapped an empty hex on the map. "And the ghosts?"
"Decoy pillars," Kade said. "Shallow cores that sing like anchors when touched. If someone tries to map us by behavior again, they'll memorize the wrong kindness."
"Good," Reika said, and uncapped a pen.
We marched.
