Ten Weeks After the Starless Knot
The dawn over San Francisco Bay looked like a page torn from the Loom itself—soft coral blending to indigo, shot through with a fine lattice of green aurora that should not have lingered this far south. Commuters on the Golden Gate slowed, phones held aloft, convinced they were witnessing a once-in-a-century atmospheric glitch. Only half a dozen people on the planet understood it was the Loom's after-pulse, still echoing through the ionosphere long after the Council's last seed had gone dark.
Aiden Hale stood on the roof of Neuro Lab 2B, one hand wrapped around a steaming paper cup. The other rested over the Dawn-Core hidden beneath his jacket, feeling its luxuriant warmth radiate through cloth and skin. The crystal had been silent the entire re-entry flight, but the moment his boots touched home soil it began to hum again—quiet, content, alive.
Behind him the lab's emergency stairwell door banged open. Maya appeared, black hoodie skewed, dark circles etched like soot. "Telecom board wants to know why half the planet's satellites picked up dream-band static at 04:00. You want to handle that, or should I improvise another 'stray ion storm' PowerPoint?"
Aiden tipped his cup toward the sunrise. "Tell them the sun sneezed in iambic pentameter."
She gave a tired laugh, then sobered. "It's getting louder, Aid. The Loom stabilised, yes, but every night the global dream-load rises a percent. People report hyper-lucidity: shared visions, prophetic deja-vu. Beautiful—but unsupervised."
"Too much harmony?" he asked.
"Too much signal," she corrected. "Even art needs noise floor."
Reunion in the Workshop
Downstairs Cassie, Lin Xi, and Nephis sprawled across repurposed worktables. Cassie tinkered with her lantern's new iris, which now emitted adjustable spectrums for medical triage. Lin Xi practised one-hand forms, Spiral Stone hovering inches above his palm like a patient moon. Nephis lounged in shadow, cloak now resewn with indigo threads harvested from the Knot; faint constellations drifted across its surface when he breathed.
Aiden entered with Maya close behind. "Our vacation's over," he said without preamble. "The Loom's resonance keeps rising. People are starting to crash lucid—waking with psychic feedback burn."
Cassie's brow furrowed. "Any Council trace left?"
"None," Maya answered. "This is us. Humanity plugged into a clean infinite canvas and painting without limits."
Lin Xi lowered Spiral Stone. "When the qi river runs too fast, banks erode. The remedy is sluice channels."
Nephis arched a brow. "We build dams in a tapestry?"
Aiden set Dawn-Core on a coil stand. "We introduce randomness—safe entropy—so minds can ground again. Loom Spirit hasn't messaged in weeks; feels like it's letting us govern the after-party."
Maya flicked open a holo-map. "First spikes cluster over major innovation hubs. San Fran, Shenzhen, Berlin. Users report 'mind music' so immersive they forget to eat."
Cassie whispered, remembering patients in ICU who'd forgotten to breathe. "If they don't anchor back, they'll slip into irreversible dream-coma."
A New Threat Emerges
An alert pinged across the room. Maya dove for the console. Lines of live news scrolled: Berlin subway driver collapses after 48-hour lucid state; Shenzhen robotics prodigy found catatonic with sketches of impossible machines; three-car pile-up in Oakland when passengers phase-tranced.
Nephis rose, cloak stirring like storm clouds. "Entropy islands. We seed them before the melody drowns the choir."
Aiden nodded. "Dawn-Core can weave controlled dissonance—randomised lull patterns. Lin, you'll craft the qi-seal. Cassie calibrates lantern frequencies. Maya spins the code layer. Nephis and I deliver."
Cassie tucked her lantern under one arm. "Where first?"
Aiden tapped the glowing red spike over Berlin. "We start with the loudest note."
The team dispersed—no further debate, just the silent cadence of comrades who understood that saving the world sometimes meant muting its most beautiful song.
Outside, the dawn-colored aurora wavered, as if listening in—and the Dawn-Core responded with a single thump that rattled light fixtures. Harmony wanted to soar; it would be the Guardians' task to teach it how to breathe.