Morning arrived silently. No birdsong, no wind—only a deep, steady humming that seemed to come from beneath the earth. The sun hung over the ruins like a dull eye slowly lifting its lids.
Rhea was the first to notice. She stood over the glowing line, which had grown brighter overnight, holding her measuring device close to the surface.
"This is insane," she murmured.
Eiko blinked sleepily. "Please tell me you meant coffee."
"No. Look."
He stepped closer, and the numbers on the small screen tumbled over each other—frequencies, signals, but not chaotic. Harmonious.
"It's... breathing," said Eiko.
Alaric emerged from the shadow of the ruin, his face marked by a night without sleep.
"She's alive."
Rhea looked at him. "What do you mean?"
"The Network. That's her. Or what's left of her."
