We held the rim for a quiet watch. The visitors stayed—behind the white line by choice now, no one eager to be the one who ruined a clean record.
The lattice's new undertone settled into something you felt in your teeth if you paid attention. We paid attention.
The first grit came stub-fine. Seraphina's head turned. "There."
"Direction?" Kade asked.
"Crisium again," she said, annoyed at the repeat offender. "Low. Flat."
"Same maker?" Rose asked the air, already moving.
"Probably," Erebus said from a pocket that wasn't there. "They're proud of this trick."
We ghosted: Cecilia wrapped us in a hush that fooled dust; Rose erased foot echo; Reika drew two small lies across angles; Rachel's hands warmed; Vyr's Guard shifted thirty meters without being told.
We expected filaments.
We got a braid.
