The merged territories had stopped shaking. That was the first thing everyone noticed after the Reckoning Bloom.
The walls no longer pulsed like living veins. The floors stayed flat. Doors opened when you wanted them to. But the place had changed. Districts developed their own habits.
Some districts fed people extra rations when they walked through. Others made the air heavy and slow, forcing longer rests. The living empire was settling, and it had opinions.
Atlas walked the circuits every day. His scarred arm burned during the bad stretches. The old wound from the core's rejection had turned into something useful. When the territory grew restless, the scar itched and pulled.
Sometimes it showed him flashes—cracks in a support wall three districts over, or a water vein drying up because a root cluster had grown too thick. He learned to listen.
