The pier smelled like salt, diesel, and panic.
After the tremor, everything moved faster. Technicians ran cables. Guards shifted positions. People spoke in clipped voices, like if they used full sentences the world might crack again.
Aria stood just outside the Halo chamber doors, watching the floodlights stutter as if they were arguing with the night. The moon above the water looked bruised. Not eclipsed. Not hidden.
Just… wrong.
Dr. Haines hovered nearby, tablet in hand, pretending she wasn't shaken. Viktor was ten steps away, speaking with two officers in low tones. He kept glancing at Aria as if she were a bomb that had decided not to go off and that made him more nervous, not less.
Aria's skin still hummed from containment. The bands had dimmed, but she could feel the imprint of them, like pressure marks that wouldn't fade.
The tremor had not come from her.
That was what bothered her most.
