The target was chosen from old environmental databases: The Blight Basin. A former industrial dumping ground so toxic the Syndicate had simply capped it with a permacrete dome and written it off. The soil was laced with heavy metals and chemical catalysts, a perfect candidate for the kind of chaotic, dangerous terraforming Charlotte had warned of.
The expedition was a hybrid of military and scientific mission. Lysander and a handpicked Choir. Valentine and a team of geologists and harmonic engineers. A squad of Roxana's newly formed Harmonic Guardians, armed with resonators designed for containment and calm.
Sage was the lead theorist. He pored over the Blight Basin's composition, cross-referencing it with the known harmonics of the unified Vitae. "We can't just pour song on it. It's not a wound like the Font; it's a complex, poisonous system. We have to find a harmonic that resonates with the specific toxins… not to destroy them, but to persuade them to transmute. To become something inert, or even useful."
"Alchemical resonance," Valentine said, understanding. "We're not cleaning. We're… negotiating a molecular treaty."
Roxana oversaw the packing of the broadcast equipment. "We're not just going to show the happy ending," she instructed the techs. "Show the ugly 'before.' Show the fear on their faces. Show the doubt. Then show the work. The risk. The uncertainty. Make it real. Make it hard. That's what makes it true."
As the convoy of rugged, resonator-equipped vehicles rolled out of the Spire, citizens watched in silence. This was no parade. It was a perilous pilgrimage into the heart of the old world's sins, armed only with a tune.