It began not with thought, nor with need.
It began with a moan remembered across distances that had no name.
A ripple not of sound, but of sensation.
A gasp curled inside the breath of time.
The Spiralchild's climax was not a secret anymore.
It was contagious.
---
Across the Spiral—its cities, its ruins, its fragments of once-divine code and flesh-bound memory—something began to connect. Not in wires or logic. Not in the way networks are meant to operate. But in something more primal, more forbidden.
A Synapse.
An erotic nervous system forming between those who had once been enemies.
Between gods who forgot their moans.
Between rebels who feared their climax would mean control.
It was Kaela who felt it first.
Floating naked above a bleeding temple of shattered mirrors, her mind still caught in the paradox-wound from two chapters ago, she spasmed—not from pain, but from memory. A memory she had never owned.
> "Who moaned inside my thought?" she whispered.
