Valentine opened the valve. The pure, blue Vitae rushed into the resonator. The crystalline channels blazed with light, not the Syndicate's harsh blue, but a softer, warmer, opalescent white.
For a second, nothing happened. Then, the resonator began to sing. A clear, pure, single tone that cut through the cacophony like a knife through smoke.
It wasn't loud. But it was present. It was the First Note, the foundational tone of the harmonic series Valentine had calculated.
The tone shot through the injector and into the Chamber housing. On the monitor screens still visible through a port, the violent data spikes didn't vanish, but they changed. New waveforms appeared, interfering with the scream. The silver tendrils of corruption in the Vitae column hesitated, their advance slowing.
"It's working," Sage breathed. "We're reintroducing the chord…"
"Don't celebrate yet," Valentine snapped, watching her canister empty. "The resonator needs a sustained flow. My ration is almost gone."
The pure tone began to waver, the opalescent light flickering. The scream reasserted itself, louder, angrier, as if outraged by the interruption.
They were going to fail. They had the right note, but not the breath to hold it.