The silence after the unveiling was not a void, but a fertile ground. The echoes of the event the murmured approvals, Herr Vogel's taciturn commission, the lingering scent of fine wine and polish settled into the very concrete of the shop, becoming part of its foundational lore. In the days that followed, a profound and deliberate calm descended. The frantic, survivalist energy that had characterized the build was gone, replaced by the steady, confident hum of an enterprise that had not only survived its trial by fire but had been forged by it.
The Chimera was no longer a project to be completed, but a benchmark against which all future work would be measured. It was moved to a place of honor at the far end of the shop, not as a static museum piece, but as a working prototype, a testbed for ideas and a reminder of their own potential. Adrian would often walk past it, his hand trailing absently along its flank, as if drawing strength and inspiration from its silent, potent presence.
