The Pancreatic Junction, what was once super important, now smelled like wet dirt but had potential. Maxine and Leo were working where the biggest amber tubes used to be. They didn't break it open. Instead, they got this rock-hard thing to crack open on its own. Underneath was living goop, like the god's insides, asleep but not dead.
They stuck the first crystal seeds into this open sore. These were bits of the dampener-crystals mixed with glowing, fast-growing goop from the Heartwood Spire's offering. It was like a genetic wish, a request to the Junction: Grow us tools that bring peace.
Maxine watched how the seed thing was linking to the local nerves. She felt the Junction waking up, not in pain, but slowly. The goop knew what the mycelium was. It was something it knew. The cells started feeding the mycelium, and the mycelium started making tiny crystal things along its length, following the seed.
It's working, Leo said, seeing a shiny node thing form on the mycelium. The Host is saying yes.
It makes sense, Maxine said, but what she felt was more than that. It was like working with someone. A big, sleeping brain agreeing to a little project. She didn't feel the rejection she felt other places. This place was remembering what it was meant to do.
As they worked, someone ran to them—a young guard, out of breath. Chief Carver. Scout Vance. You're needed at the Silent Sea border. There's a problem with the Drowned Choir.
They got to the pericardial flood fast on a spire-rider. The Sea of Sighs was quiet, with a silver surface that reflected the dim sky. But the singing was messed up.
Cassandra Vaughn stood on the dock, pale, looking sad. Around her were other Choir-survivors and sailors, looking sick.
It's not memories now, Cassandra said as Maxine and Leo came up. It's demands. The Choir is singing the same thing over and over. It's from the Drowned Gland-Islands.
Maxine closed her eyes, feeling everything through her seed plant over the big sea. She felt it. The usual sad, broken chorus of memories had come together into one strong signal. A mind thing sending out one clear message:
GET IT BACK. PUT IT TOGETHER. REMEMBER.
It's the Lobe's last gift, Maxine said. The map of good paths. It's not just info. It's a command. The Choir—the god's lost memories—saw it. They're trying to follow it. They're trying to get back home.
But they're just echoes, Leo said, confused. Ghosts. They can't go anywhere.
They can try, Cassandra whispered, holding her head. And it hurts. Like hooks dragging through my head, all pulling the same way. It's messing up the Sea. Look.
She pointed. Far away, the calm sea was making big swirls. The Islands were moving from their spots, going toward one place. The sea was trying to make a lost thing, a lost body part.
This is automatic, Maxine said, watching the data. The Lobe's plan started a repair thing in the god's water system. But the repair thing is broken. The memories are messed up. They're trying to rebuild something without a plan, just wanting to. It'll cause a bad thing. It could mess things up near the coast, flood the bottom parts of Sanctum.
So we stop it, Leo said. We stop the signal.
We can't stop the Lobe's signal without messing up the switch, Maxine said. And the Choir is part of the god. Killing it would be cutting off another part. She looked at Cassandra. You have a link. You hold Choir memories. Can you change them? Give them a new purpose?
Cassandra looked scared. I'm not a conductor. I'm broken.
You're the focus, Maxine said. The Choir feels connected to you. If you go to the middle of the swirl, if you sing not the Lobe's map, but the new song— the song of the switch, of rest, of slow healing—you might calm them. Change their 'get it back' into 'let it go.'
It was a lot to ask. To go into a mind storm and sing a lullaby to a ghost god's lost mind.
Cassandra looked at the sea, then at her hands. She thought of the memory of being whole, of being happy before the cuts. That memory was in her, too. It was the only thing strong enough to stop the pain.
I need a boat, she said, getting stronger. And someone who knows how networks work to keep me steady. To pull me back if I get lost.
Leo looked at her. He knew how things connect. I'll go with you. My people have boats that can ride the water. And I can feel the health of the network. I'll know if you're fading.
While they got a strong boat ready, Maxine went back to the Pancreatic Junction. She needed something. Using a fast-grown crystal, she made a simple thing that would help Cassandra focus. She put the same feeling into it as the Vat-Bread thing: a gentle, making feeling.
As she gave it to Cassandra at the dock, they looked at each other. They didn't need to talk. One woman who had cut gods was giving something to a woman who was hurt, so she could heal a sea of ghosts.
Cassandra and Leo pushed off, going into the swirling sea. As they got closer to the middle, the mind pressure got huge. The air was loud with the same sound: GET IT BACK. PUT IT TOGETHER. REMEMBER.
Cassandra stood at the front, holding the crystal. She closed her eyes and just let the memories come. She found the quiet memory of being whole. And she started to sing.
Not words. A feeling. The feeling of being done with a task. Of someone resting after a good day's work. Of letting go. She sent this feeling through the crystal, making it stronger, mixing it into the Choir's song.
…release… let go… it is done… you are remembered…
It didn't change right away. The swirl pushed back. Ghosts of forgotten things attacked. But Leo, holding her steady, sent a healthy rhythm through the boat, a sound of here and now.
Slowly, the song started to change. The GET IT BACK softened into a sigh. The sea calmed down. The islands stopped, finding new spots in the water.
The ghosts didn't go home. They couldn't. But they stopped trying to break down the doors. They calmed down. The sea became peaceful, not painful.
Cassandra fell into the boat, tired. Leo turned back toward the shore, happy for the quiet sea.
Another problem fixed. Another thing learned: You can't rebuild the past. You can only calm it, and let it rest. You have to build the future with new things, with new songs.