"Darling, if you chase mysteries long enough, pessimism is the safest mood lighting."
They turned another dial. A faint ping echoed; one of the slender crystal columns cracked a millimeter. Rodion waddled over, optics pulsing.
Mikhailis waved him off. "Fine, fine—we'll reinforce." He slid a silver clamp into place. Behind them, a chimera ant worker scooted past, balancing a tray of tiny screws on its head like a saucer. Serelith caught the motion and watched with widening eyes.
The worker reached a low shelf where two siblings assembled a gear-driven beetle. One held a magnifying lens bigger than its carapace while the other inserted a brass limb into the socket with surgeon precision. Serelith's earlier amusement bloomed into fascination.
