The resignation did not calm the structure.
It destabilized it.
One removal creates the illusion of resolution. Two suggests pattern. Three confirms fault line.
By 07:15, analysts across three divisions were recalibrating forecasts—not because of revenue shifts, but because uncertainty has a measurable impact on confidence curves.
Markets price instability faster than people admit it exists.
Oversight released a preliminary statement.
Concise.
Non-accusatory.
Irreversible.
Review confirms procedural divergence requiring structural remediation.
Not misconduct.
Not error.
Divergence.
A word that implies drift without specifying who let go of the wheel.
But remediation? That implies consequence.
Han Zhe sent updated logs.
"They've stopped cleaning backwards," he said. "Now they're freezing."
Freezing was expected.
When behavior is observed, systems first rewrite the past. When that fails, they stop producing new records.
"Archive everything nightly," I said. "Mirrored."
"Already done."
Of course it was.
Gu Chengyi forwarded a market note from an external analyst.
Anonymous source.
Internal governance concerns.
Heightened review environment.
The phrasing was careful, but the implication was clear:
Someone inside had spoken beyond the walls.
I wasn't surprised.
Containment ends the moment people realize they're not alone.
At noon, the Interim Lead requested an in-person conversation.
Not virtual.
Not documented.
I declined.
"Transparency protects everyone," I wrote. "Let's keep it that way."
The reply was slower than usual.
Then: Understood.
A concession disguised as courtesy.
By afternoon, the second resignation arrived.
This one louder.
Strategic operations.
No explanation.
The forum didn't celebrate.
That, more than anything, signaled maturity.
People were no longer seeking collapse.
They were seeking correction.
Oversight called again.
"We're expanding scope," the Director said. "There are secondary impacts."
"There always are," I replied.
"Do you anticipate systemic risk?"
The question was technical—but loaded.
"Yes," I said. "Short term. Confidence recalibration. Workflow disruption. Political friction."
"And long term?"
"Structural resilience. If you codify what you learn."
A pause.
"And if we don't?"
"Then this becomes a case study."
They didn't ask for clarification.
They didn't need it.
Late evening brought the aftershock.
A coordinated memo from senior leadership.
Language unified.
Tone firm.
Commitment to transparency.
It read like stability.
It felt like containment.
Aftershocks aren't the collapse.
They're the adjustment.
The structure testing its new weight distribution.
The junior analyst sent a message at 21:03.
"They've stopped contacting me."
"Good," I said.
"Is it over?"
I looked at the city again.
"No," I replied. "It's settling."
A system under scrutiny doesn't shatter if it adapts.
But it will never again move the way it used to.
That's the aftershock.
Not destruction.
Recalibration.
And tomorrow—
The realignment would begin.