Kade spread a new map. No projector. Paper taped to Tycho's steel table.
"Teeth are live. Now we see if the jaw works," he said. "Two drills. Then we shut up and listen."
We took positions around Mare Imbrium. The lattice nodes hummed underfoot, the ghost pillars dozing in their false skins. The first drill was ours: a fake stress to prove the handoff.
"Chaos seed," I said.
Cecilia flicked her fingers. Heat and cold argued across a pocket of dust. The air didn't move, but the numbers did. Seraphina cooled the edge into tiny pellets so nothing went airborne. Rose bent a thumb of space over the patch—just enough to make it look real to anything that wanted to measure.
The lattice felt the "fall." A single tooth woke, drew a clean, invisible line, and went back to sleep.
Kade listened with his jaw, not his ears. "Note-then-settle. Good."
"Again, softer," I said.
We ran it twice more, then killed it. Clean response. No flash. No aftertaste.
