The wall counted down like a stranger trying to run our clock.
"Ninety," Comms said. "Eighty-nine."
Vivian did not look at the numbers. "Ms. Chen," she said.
Ava kept her voice at working height. "We do not adopt their phrase," she said. "We send a Nearlight handshake that says receipt routes stay live under our countersign."
Counsel nodded without adding theater. "Controller can issue an acknowledgment scoped to countersigned charity velocity," he said. "No acceptance of vendor nomenclature."
"Controller on," Comms said. "Field for reason."
"Keep receipts live under Nearlight countersign," Ava said. "No vendor phrasing. Public ledger in progress."
"Entered," the Controller said. "Awaiting Chair flag."
Vivian lifted two fingers. "Flag set," she said. "Record scope and time."
"Edge shim ready," Elias said from the speaker. "If they try a gentle choke, I will smooth at ingress. Paint stays cut. I am watching for hold paths."
Sofia had the sentence for the room already boxed on her tablet. She read as she wrote. "We acknowledge a Nearlight handshake to keep receipts live under countersign," she said. "We do not use vendor names. Proof every five; token posted."
The CFO arranged his paper as if corners could vote. "Call it what you like," he said, pleasant. "It reads like capitulation."
"It reads like receipts," Ava said.
Do not flinch.
Comms breathed time. "Sixty," the voice said. "Fifty-nine."
Noah leaned a fraction into her left shoulder. His collar was still open. Under the table his fingers found her wrist and stayed, a circuit that kept the hour honest.
"Harbor," Sofia said into the mic. "Consent on record, proof at twenty."
"Consent," the Harbor lead said. "Five by phone. No names."
Counsel's tablet chimed. "Controller handshake drafted," he said. "Scope Nearlight only. No vendor language."
"Send at twenty minus five," Ava said. "Mirror nothing on the pin until we post our line."
"Copy," Comms said.
"Paint trying the freeway again," Elias said, amused. "Bezel cut. Source cut. Names credited."
Vivian flicked her eyes to the aide. "Mirror small under the ledger," she said. "No headline."
"Thirty," Comms said. "Twenty-nine."
The room learned how to breathe in half seconds. Down the hall a printer produced a Harbor receipt with a sound that carried better than arguments.
"Controller," counsel said. "Send."
"Sent," the Controller said. "Time fifteen nineteen thirty."
"Edge shim armed," Elias said. "If rate stutters, I will smooth."
"Harbor," Sofia said softly. "On our count at twenty."
The wall reached for its big moment and found only a minute.
"Three," Sofia said.
"Two," the donor said, smiling into air she could not see.
"One," Ava said.
A reader clicked. The wall failed to become the main character.
"Read," Vivian said.
"Approved," the Harbor lead said. "Token 8270."
Sofia wrote it in block print and passed it to the aide. The aide laid it square at the seam, a small square that could move a large room.
Comms read the Controller's echo. "Handshake acknowledged by vendor," the voice said. "They attempted to rename it inside their portal. We did not echo."
"Post our line," Ava said.
Sofia did. "We acknowledge a Nearlight handshake to keep receipts live under countersign," she read as she pinned it. "We do not use vendor names. Proof every five; token posted."
"Appendix," Elias said. "Short entry: partner sync requests do not alter payment paths under countersign; we publish tokens not menus."
"Posted," Sofia said. "Caption plain."
The CFO took aim at tone and fired gently. "You just told them yes," he said.
"We told them ours," Ava said. "Scope, time, ledger."
Noah's thumb pressed once at her wrist and let go.
The tidy director raised his pen. "Rate impact," he said. "The words degrade or acknowledge will spook people if the line slows."
"Which is why we count," Ava said. "If rate softens, we do a phone proof on the five. People will watch tokens, not adjectives."
Elias's tone flattened a degree. "Small choke at District," he said. "I am smoothing. No hold."
The wall pretended to care by turning a non-color for two seconds. The ledger window ignored it.
"Harbor," Sofia said. "Consent to a second gift at twenty-five."
"Consent," the lead said. "We will have three people ready."
Comms put the investor room in the audio without making them a plot. "Eyes quoting 'we do not use vendor names,'" the voice said. "Off pin."
"Keep it off pin," Ava said. "Air only."
Counsel looked down as a new box bloomed on his tablet with unnecessary confidence. "Vendor portal updated their own copy," he said. "They now call your countersign a partner window."
"We will not," Vivian said.
A runner handed the aide a thin slip like a bird that understood schedules. It read: Ivy pop-up pinged D-Id-Match-017, consented to speaker.
"Ivy on line," Comms said. "Consent on record."
"Ivy," Ava said. "Describe your label."
"'Ivy Pop East,'" the seller said. "We get D-Id-Match-017 on mid tickets."
"Shared cache at last hop," Elias said. "Alias fix held, this is residue. I will split."
"Do it," she said. "Buttons refresh. Items stay."
"Assigning," he said. "Refresh."
"Proceed," Ava said.
Two thumbs pressed. Two approvals arrived with the humility that makes machines tolerable.
Sofia ticked the Ivy block with two fresh numbers and did not let herself enjoy it too much.
"Fifteen twenty-two," Comms said. "Vendor float shows 'Unsynced Degrade' staging."
"Scope," Vivian said.
"Regional throttle where partners did not acknowledge," counsel read. "Nonbinding until the timer hits."
Elias's breath shortened. "They will try to punish non-ack partners by slowing nearby edges," he said. "We acknowledged on our terms. We might still see splash."
"Plain rule for pin," Ava said.
Sofia wrote while she spoke. "If rate softens, proofs continue on five. We publish tokens not menus. Nearlight keeps receipts live under countersign."
"Posted," she said.
The CFO's smile tilted. "If performance dips and we keep posting," he said, "you will own a headline."
"We will own receipts," Ava said.
Hold the cadence.
Noah's fingers returned to her wrist and stayed.
Elias's tone sharpened. "Wall starting a new timer," he said. "Sixty. Fifty-nine."
The display bloomed a circle that wanted to be important. It counted like a person who has learned to say numbers but not to love them.
"Harbor," Sofia said. "Ready on twenty-five."
"Standing by," the lead said.
A donor's voice in the background laughed because she liked being part of schedules.
"Edge shim is catching small stutters," Elias said. "No drops so far."
Counsel read the portal's little boast with professional boredom. "Vendor claims 'partners acknowledged safety windows to ensure experience,'" he said. "They still avoid our name."
"Which is fine," Vivian said. "We avoid theirs."
Sofia lifted a warm strip. "Harbor 8271," she said. "From a walk-up. Footer eight twenty-three."
"Record," Vivian said.
The tidy director took off his glasses and cleaned them as if dust were a vote. "If rate sags at twenty-five," he said, "and a donor stalls, what do you do with the person in the room."
"Keep them on speaker," Ava said. "Move them to phone if needed. Post the token that lands. We teach people to trust numbers."
Comms lowered her voice a shade. "Media car filming the map again," the voice said. "They love timers."
"Let them film our footers," Ava said.
The circle reached thirty and pretended its halves meant something.
"Three," Sofia said softly into the mic.
"Two," the donor said.
"One," Ava said.
Silence that was not failure stretched a second too long. Elias's head turned toward a sound only his console hears.
"Shim applied," he said. "Hold the count."
The reader remembered how to be a door.
"Approved," the Harbor lead said. "Token 8272."
Sofia wrote the number and passed it down the seam. The aide set it square. The map tried red at the corner again and got cut without being allowed a name.
The CFO aligned his pen with the paper's margin like a man negotiating with gravity. "You cannot run a city by force of will," he said, pleasant.
"We can run a ledger by force of proof," Ava said.
Noah breathed once without letting his chest look like a speech. The open collar did enough.
Elias listened to his line and then to theirs. "Unsynced Degrade is arming wider," he said. "It will not target us, but splash is possible."
"Appendix," Sofia said. "Short line added: rate softening is not a hold; we publish tokens not menus; Nearlight handshake persists."
"Posted," she said.
A cart at Ivy that had been quiet all day rang a bell that meant a customer had made a joke at exactly the right time. The seller laughed into the mic without meaning to. The room got nicer by a centimeter.
The wall's circle found ten and became smug.
"Harbor," Sofia said. "We have a second donor ready in case the first stalls."
The Harbor lead whispered to someone off mic and came back. "Consent for both," she said.
"Good," Ava said.
Elias's tone dropped a half step. "Unsynced Degrade live," he said. "Two edges. Regional throttle. We are catching some of it."
"Proof anyway," Ava said.
"Three," Sofia said.
"Two," the donor said.
"One," Ava said.
The phone hummed, then asked for a breath it had not earned.
"Rate softening," Elias said. "No hold."
The donor waited without apology. The reader tried to be a diva and then remembered it had a job.
"Approved," the Harbor lead said. "Token 8273."
Sofia posted and boxed it. "Footer eight twenty-nine," she said.
"Record," Vivian said.
Comms slid in with the tone that means gossip wants to be law. "Finance blog calls the handshake a capitulation," the voice said. "Off pin."
"Keep it off pin," Ava said. "Air only."
The tidy director tapped his pen again, a small drum for a room that forgot music. "When do you stop," he said. "What is the limit."
"Ten by six," Ava said. "Then us."
Noah's hand tightened at her wrist and let go. The stairwell clause hummed under the fluorescent light like a secret that feeds you instead of starving you.
The wall thought up a new trick and put the words UNSYNCED DEGRADE in letters large enough to insult taste. A secondary sixty lit beneath it in case anyone missed the point.
Elias did not bother to sound worried. "They want a headline," he said. "We will give them a footer."
"Harbor," Sofia said. "We will be greedy and take one more before the clock tries a different voice."
"Consent," the lead said. "Five by phone."
"On count," Ava said.
"Three," Sofia said.
"Two," the donor said, like a person doing a favor for a future version of himself.
"One," Ava said.
Approval tried to be coy and then arrived like a friend who refuses to be dramatic.
"Approved," the Harbor lead said. "Token 8274."
Sofia posted. The aide set it by the seam. Counsel's tablet drew a box around the words that did not deserve boxes.
Comms came in at a polite volume. "Ivy has two pop-ups queued," the voice said. "If Unsynced splashes, they want to know if phone proofs are allowed at the door."
"They are," Ava said. "Numbers travel just fine."
Noah looked at the wall and then at the ledger and then at her sleeve where the graphite mark had smudged earlier. He did not say anything with his mouth. He did not have to.
"Timer at sixty again," Comms said. "Vendor insists on the show."
The circle started over.
At the Ivy door, a donor lifted his phone with the eagerness of people who like being part of live things. The device hummed and decided to be shy.
"Stall," Sofia said quietly.
"Rate," Elias said. "No hold."
"Keep him on channel," Ava said. "Read the code if it throws one."
The donor's screen offered a box that thinks it helps. The seller whispered to him and kept him from apologizing for phones.
"Read," Ava said.
"C-Donor-Flow-202," the seller said. "Soft path."
"Edge smoothing," Elias said. "Proceed."
The Harbor line lifted another phone as if to teach the city redundancy. Two minutes until nothing. Two minutes until everything.
Vivian angled her face an inch toward the aide. "Record cadence locked," she said. "Five-minute proofs in minutes."
The room nodded like a chorus that likes its part.
The display's countdown reached fifty and smiled.
At the Ivy rail, the donor's phone hung for a second like a question. At the Harbor table, a donor tapped with the calm of someone who has learned to trust strangers in daylight.
The wall counted down to forty like a person who has confused sound with meaning.
The Harbor reader clicked first.
"Approved," the lead said. "Token 8275."
Sofia posted and looked at Ava.
Ava nodded.
At the Ivy door the donor's phone decided it wanted to be a citizen after all.
"Approved," the seller said. "Token 3124."
Sofia added a small mirror to the Ivy block so the city could see two doors behaving at once.
The wall tried a new shade of red just to feel alive.
Elias cut it without looking.
The room learned, again, how much of a day is just refusing to be told what the nouns are.
The display found thirty and pretended it mattered.
A donor with a knit cap outside the door knocked the way people knock when they want to be intrepid and polite. "Can I give," she said.
"You can," Ava said. "We are live."
She took the card like a person picking up a tool she had wanted to use all morning.
The wall found twenty and forgot how to breathe for the drama of it.
The phone at the door hummed and then stumbled.
"Unsynced hit," Elias said. "Edge catching."
The donor waited. She did not apologize for patience.
The wall found ten and prepared to perform.
The phone refused to pick a side.
We acknowledge the sync as a Nearlight handshake and keep the pin live.
The donor looked up, brave without trying. "Do I wait," she said.
"You wait," Ava said. "We count."
The wall found five and tried to be a god.
The donor's approval did not land. It hovered, a breath that would not pick a lung.
"Stall at door," Sofia said. "Fifteen twenty-two."
"Unsynced Degrade," Comms said. "Sixty restarts."
The display began again.
The donor's phone held its breath with the wall.
The room held it with her.