The corridor filled with movement. Doors opened. Voices rose.
“Rygnar,” someone called. “What is that?”
He looked at me once—steady, assessing—then reached for his boots. “We can’t contain it here. If it’s broadcasting through the grid, the council will already know.”
“I didn’t—” My fingers trembled around the disc. “You disabled it. I watched you.”
“I know.” His voice stayed calm, but something colder moved beneath it. “Get dressed.”
By the time we stepped into the corridor, the signal echoed faintly through the stone like a heartbeat. Colony members emerged from side passages, drawn toward the sound.
Toward me.
Councilor Kareth Vorn appeared on the upper path, copper scales catching the morning light, her gaze locking on the pulse at my throat.
“You brought a signal inside our walls?”
Rygnar stepped forward, placing himself between us. “It was dormant. I verified—”
“Dormant is not dead,” she snapped. “You’ve put us all at risk.”
I forced my hands to steady. “Let me fix it. Just give me a tool—”
She recoiled. “You expect us to trust—”
“Enough.”
Veklan’s voice carried from the terrace above. He descended slowly, each step deliberate. “We don’t panic until we know what hunts us.”
He stopped in front of me. “How far does that beacon reach?”
“Line-of-sight range,” I said, forcing my thoughts into order. “Twenty kilometers if the receiver’s high. It can’t call orbit anymore—the relays are gone.”
“So, it tells every scavenger and raider within a day’s ride that something worth finding is in this mountain.”
My breath caught. “I didn’t mean to—”
“I believe you,” Veklan said. “But intention does not change consequence.”
He turned to Rygnar. “Disable it again. And make sure it stays dead.”
“I will.”
Councilor Vorn hissed softly. “If they come, her life pays for the risk.”
Rygnar didn’t raise his voice. “If they come, mine does.”
Silence fell.
Veklan held his gaze for a long moment, then nodded once. “See it done.”
Back in the workshop, Rygnar set the tag on his bench. It blinked steadily, each pulse sharp in the quiet.
“I don’t understand,” I said. “You cut the circuits yourself.”
“I cut the primary circuit,” he said. “But this—” he tapped the added trace “—was never part of the original build. A secondary bridge. Hidden well enough to survive a standard disable.”
“You mean it was always there?” I whispered.
