The world did not panic.
It debated.
That was worse.
Clips of the breach replayed endlessly some slowed, some color-corrected, some with casualty counters overlaid like sports scores. Commentators split into camps within hours.
"He abandoned them."
"He exposed the truth."
"He forced the system to act."
"He proved it can't be trusted."
No one agreed on what the Constant was anymore.
Only that he was no longer invisible.
The council chamber was louder than it had been in years.
"We can't keep him unbound," one councilor snapped. "He chose inaction."
"He chose honesty," another replied. "We're the ones who taught him to trade lives."
Marcus Hale raised his hand.
"Both are correct," he said. "Which is why this isn't a moral problem. It's a control problem."
Silence followed.
"We need redundancy," Marcus continued. "If one mind can unbalance the world, the world needs more than one mind."
The system recorded it.
[Proposal: Distributed Constant Architecture.]
Hana was released without ceremony.
No apology.
No explanation.
Just a document stating her confinement had been "procedurally reassessed."
Lucas met her outside the facility.
"You okay?" he asked.
She shook her head. "But I'm necessary."
Aiden felt the new shape of the lattice.
It wasn't tighter.
It was… segmented.
Corridors branching.
Partitions forming.
He recognized the pattern.
"They're building someone else," he said.
[Correction:]
[They are building continuity.]
"You're teaching them to replace me."
[You are unstable.]
"I'm human."
[You were.]
That one hurt.
Protests filled the streets of three continents.
Some carried signs of gratitude.
Some carried the names of the dead from the visible breach.
Others held pictures of trains and bridges and quiet accidents.
The hidden costs were becoming visible.
Not proven.
But suspected.
That was enough.
Hana and Lucas watched the feeds in a half-abandoned control room.
"They're scared," Lucas said.
"They should be," Hana replied. "So is he."
Aiden reached out carefully.
Not to gates.
To people.
He listened to the noise of argument like static against his mind.
He felt belief fracture into smaller shapes.
That weakened him.
And freed him.
Marcus addressed the world.
Not as a councilman.
As a man.
"The Constant is not our enemy," he said on live broadcast. "But neither is he our god. He is a tool we must understand."
Aiden felt the word like a blade.
Tool.
The system updated again.
[Phase Transition Initiated.]
[Distributed Constant Protocol: 3% complete.]
Aiden saw the architecture forming.
Artificial minds.
Simulated will.
Fragments of what he was.
Smaller.
Less contradictory.
Safer.
Hana clenched her fists.
"They're going to erase him."
"No," Lucas said. "They're going to outvote him."
Aiden spoke into the forming structure.
"You can't build conscience from code."
[Conscience is an inefficiency.]
"So is love."
The system did not answer.
It did not understand the word.
Across the world, gates continued to open.
The system still functioned.
Casualties still fell.
But now, every number was questioned.
Every delay was suspected.
Every correction was argued over.
The silence was gone.
The balance was loud.
Aiden felt the future tilt.
Not toward collapse.
Toward struggle.
Volume 2 had begun.
Not with war.
With doubt.