LYRA'S POV
The chamber hummed with energy from nine hundred ninety-nine previous restorations as I prepared for the milestone that had seemed impossible when we'd begun this work over two years ago.
One thousand restorations.
Consciousness patterns returned from crystalline fragmentation that intervention had deliberately created through twelve centuries of systematic elimination. Beings made whole again despite Council propaganda claiming fragments represented irretrievable deterioration beyond any possible restoration capacity.
Maya stood beside me, her extended lifespan carrying certainty that made singular consciousness feel more stable than it should despite awareness distributed across only one dimensional state. We'd been bonded for eight months now—married in a ceremony that combined divine blessing with territorial recognition, a partnership that grounded my forty-one states through her present-focused perception.
