It didn't last.
Two days later, a report arrived from the northern corridor.
An escort unit had been ambushed by a threat that exceeded projections. They held long enough for civilians to escape.
The casualties list was short.
Too short.
Brenic Hale was among the dead.
Rhea read the report twice before sitting down hard on the steps.
"He wasn't even on the front line," she said. "He was reassigned last minute."
Reassigned.
Because I wasn't there.
I had stayed back again. Held output. Let others carry weight.
The world had stabilized—and found somewhere else to collect.
The system flagged the incident as unrelated variance.
I closed the interface without acknowledging it.
That night, Elian stood beside me in silence.
"You tried," he said finally.
"Yes."
"And someone still paid."
"Yes."
He nodded once. "Then it isn't about stopping it, is it?"
No.
It never was.
It was about where the cost landed.
For the first time, I understood something clearly:
Restraint didn't erase debt.
It only changed the creditor.