Rex Aurelian's optimism the next morning was a jarring dissonance. He gathered the Northern Tunnel work crew in the square, his smile brilliant under the artificial dawn-glow of the Spire's beacons.
"Team! Setbacks are just setups for greater comebacks!" he announced, clapping his hands. "The minor seismic activity last night was a testament to the planet's vibrant, shifting nature! More importantly, I've secured a temporary suspension of the extended shifts! We're pivoting to surface beautification!"
A tired cheer went up. The workers were just relieved for the reprieve.
"See?" Rex beamed at Sage and Valentine specifically. "Positive pressure yields positive results! Sometimes you just have to trust the flow!"
Sage forced a nod. Seismic activity. A neat, natural label for the catastrophic reaction they'd triggered. The Syndicate's narrative machine was already erasing the truth.
Regina Altureign stood at Rex's elbow, her data-slate in hand. "The re-assignment is not a reward," she stated flatly. "Surface conduits have a higher public visibility. Efficiency and compliance will be scrutinized. Pendragon, Paxregal—you're assigned to the Grand Avenue sector. Your work will be… observable."
It was a message. They were being moved into the light, where any misstep would be immediately seen. The pressure was changing form, from the crush of overtime to the glare of scrutiny.
As the crowd dispersed, Roxana Soladorn appeared beside a water-dispensing station, ostensibly checking its flow. Her eyes found Sage.
"Surface duty," she said, her voice a mockery of sympathy. "How… elevating. Must be a relief to be away from all those gloomy, unstable tunnels. Almost like someone decided you needed a time-out. To contemplate the importance of… stability." She gave the dispenser a sharp, dismissive tap with her knuckle. "Do enjoy the view."
She walked away, leaving Sage with a cold certainty. Their every move was now being framed. They were pieces on a board, and the Soladorns were gently but firmly repositioning them.