Atlas cleared medical restriction on the third day after the residual-pressure readings stabilized across the original cluster.
The limit was hard: core output capped at forty percent, no sustained high-load links, no combat protocols. The attending specialist repeated the advice twice—remain at central, let the remote feeds handle the rest.
Atlas ignored it. He left the medical wing with a single monitor clipped to his collar, the device set to report only vital thresholds. No escort. He took the low-priority transit to the outer districts and walked the final stretch on foot.
The original Velocity-19 cluster sat in the same industrial cut it had occupied since the first practical test. Public cameras tracked him from the moment he stepped off the transit platform.
By the time he reached the perimeter fence the crew chief was already waiting at the edge. She did not salute or step aside. She folded her arms and looked at the monitor on his collar.
