Elara's first birthday coincided with the formal establishment of the Council of Circles. The Heartstone Chamber was arranged in three concentric rings:
The First Circle (0-50 years post-mutation): Pierre, Sofia, Carter, and a dozen others. They stood for urgency, innovation, the memory of baseline life.
The Second Circle (50-150 years): Erika, Thomas, Leila. They represented consolidation, wisdom tempered by experience, the long view.
The Third Circle (150+ years): Only Kael qualified so far, but the structure awaited others. They would eventually represent perspective beyond multiple human lifetimes, guardians against short-term thinking.
Kael sat in the Third Circle, Elara on his lap. At one year old, she walked already, her movements a fascinating blend of toddler awkwardness and preternatural grace. She watched the proceedings with unsettling focus.
"First matter," Leila said from the Second Circle. "The Ephemeral League has established a permanent base three hundred kilometers south. They're calling it 'Bastion.' Satellite shows significant construction—runways, barracks, research facilities."
Images projected on the stone wall: a geometric city growing on the ice, domes and towers in stark white.
"Second matter," Carter said from the First Circle. "Communications from the Australian enclave have ceased. Last transmission indicated they were under sustained assault with 'new weapons that bypass physical defenses.'"
A murmur through the chamber. The Australian group had been two hundred strong.
"Third matter," Sofia said, her voice tight. "My contacts in South America report the 'Sanctuaries' are now mandatory testing centers for children. Any showing markers are... relocated."
"To where?" Thomas asked.
"No one knows."
Kael felt Elara's small hand pat his cheek, as if comforting him. He looked at his daughter, then at the faces around the chamber—all ages, all backgrounds, united by this accidental transformation.
"We need to respond," Carter said. "Not just hide. Show them we're not just surviving—we're thriving."
"How?" Pierre asked.
"We complete the Skywell project," Kael said, speaking for the first time. "We bring the surface down here, permanently. Not just light—ecosystems. And then we invite them to see."
Silence, then uproar.
"You want to reveal our location?" Leila asked, incredulous.
"I want to reveal our achievement," Kael corrected. "The Skywell isn't just engineering. It's art. It's life. We'll grow a forest underground. Create a river that flows without sun. Show them we're not monsters in a cave—we're architects of impossible beauty."
"He's right," Lin said from where she sat between circles, as Bridge-Born weren't yet categorized. "Fear grows in darkness. Show them light."
The debate raged, but Kael's idea had planted itself. The Compact had become proficient at defense. Now it would learn offense of a different kind—the offense of wonder.