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It does not glow.

It does not bless.

Still, I understand it differently now.

Endurance through purpose.

Purpose does not need to descend.

It can be made.

It can be chosen, remade, argued over, doubted, and chosen again.

After a while, Anita speaks against my chest. “What does future look like to you now?”

The question is dangerous because for the first time, I have an answer not shaped by survival alone.

“I see a place where the shard is not controlled by one institution.”

“Good.”

“A stewardship group with representatives who disagree enough to prevent easy certainty.”

“That sounds miserable and necessary.”

“I see Sira helping build ethical access languages.”

“She’ll make them beautiful and impossible to abuse. Or at least harder to abuse.”

“I see Brakk complaining while constructing security systems better than anything the League owns.”

“He will pretend he hates every second.”

“He will enjoy forty percent.”

“Generous.”

I breathe in the scent of her hair beneath smoke and antiseptic. “I see you leading the research.”

She stiffens. “That is a terrible idea.”

“It is a necessary one.”

“Ghar, I am currently one bad decision away from becoming a cautionary historical figure.”

“That is why you need people around you who will say so.”

She lifts her head. “Including you?”

“Especially me.”

“You would argue with me professionally?”

“I suspect I would do it often.”

Her eyes brighten with something like wicked hope. “That could be hot.”

“I was making an ethical point.”