The Spire's research annex was a study in controlled sterility. The air hummed with purified Vitae, scrubbed of any magical trace, used solely for climate control and lighting. It felt dead.
Charlotte Soladorn's "personal research division" was a lab overlooking the central shaft—a vast, sealed well that descended into darkness. Through reinforced crystalflex viewports, Sage could see the upper housing of the Catalyzation Core. It wasn't a machine; it was a geological feature they had welded a machine onto. A pulsating, deep-blue column of raw Aqua Vitae, constricted by bands of glowing, rune-etched metal that vibrated with a punishing, sub-audible frequency.
"Your first task," Charlotte said, standing beside them, her voice dominant in the quiet room. "Is to analyze resonance feedback in Conduit Sector Theta. The data has been… noisy. Clean it. Find the signal in the nonsense. Use any method you deem fit. Your old… creativity… is now sanctioned. Here."
She handed them access chips. Ultimate clearance. It was a test, of course. A mousetrap baited with everything they'd ever wanted to know.
The moment she left, Valentine went to a terminal. "Our every keystroke, every energy draw, every second in this room is logged," she murmured, her fingers flying. "We operate within their parameters, or we trigger immediate containment."
Sage approached the viewport. He placed his palm against the cool crystalflex. The Core'thrummed through the material. It wasn't a song. It was the sustained scream the old Aquifer had described.
"We don't have to trigger anything," Sage said, his eyes fixed on the constricting bands. "We just have to read the data truthfully. We report the scream. We show them their 'signal' is a symptom of a fatal disease."
Valentine looked at him, then at the monstrous machine. "And if they already know?"
"Then we learn what they plan to do with a weaponized scream," Sage said. The Stillpoint Spin felt impossibly small in his mind, a whisper against a hurricane.