The morning after the council's narrow rejection of emergency overrides, the estate's energy shifted. It was as if the walls themselves breathed with the tension of what had just passed, a collective exhale, heavy and unresolved.
Aria moved through the corridors with purposeful grace, her mind racing. The architecture was alive, but now its heartbeat was erratic. The faction's push had tested the system's limits, revealing not only cracks but fractures beneath the surface.
Victor caught up with her near the central atrium, voice low but urgent. "The dissenters aren't retreating. If anything, they're mobilizing."
Aria nodded without surprise. "We expected that. Their narrative is evolving, no longer just about control, but survival. They're painting us as the architects of chaos."
Victor grimaced. "And it's gaining traction."
