--- Some time ago, The Lighthouse ---
Glass walls. A ring of tall monitors. Cold light across polished floors. Alteea stood in the center with a mug slowly going cold and three lines of data that behaved.
First, the miner feed. Alteea decided to monitor them, with all of the recent anomalies. They were green dots like small ants, climbing the north slope.
Then a red blink.
TERMINATED.
Another. And another. The pulse bars next to their IDs went flat. She frowned, tapped the filter, told herself it was a sync delay, a packet drop or a stupid cable.
The alarm line woke.
Short chirps at first. "Minor anomaly" She silenced it without looking away.
Something else lit up – a trace she didn't know. Not a drone. Not something she recognized. A smear near the peak. Too clean for noise, too messy for a signature.
"Why the peak?" she said out loud, but to herself.
