The shift was a dizzying, physical sensation. A dozen different sounds strained, slid, and then clicked into a new, profound alignment.
The chaotic, beautiful noise they'd been making coalesced. It became a single, immense chord. It was no longer just containing the scream; it was integrating it. The raw, brutal frequency of the Core became the powerful bass line of a majestic, terrifying piece of music. The silver entropy in the column swirled faster, but now in a distinct, patterned vortex—a visible manifestation of the Stillpoint Spin on a colossal scale.
For three glorious seconds, the new song held. It was stability born not of silence, but of complex harmony.
Then, the Syndicate's systems identified the new pattern. A massive, hydraulic whine built deep within the Spire. The ultimate countermeasure.
"They're going for a pressure purge!" Valentine screamed, reading the data spike. "They're going to flush the entire Chamber with inert gas! It'll shatter every resonator and rupture our eardrums!"
There was no time to run. No time to adapt.
From the entrance, Roxana Soladorn moved. She didn't speak. She lunged for the enforcer commander's belt, snatching a cylindrical device—a manual override key for local systems. Before anyone could stop her, she slammed it into a wall port and twisted.
The hydraulic whine died with a choked sputter.
Every screen in the shaft flickered and went dark. The Syndicate's counter-frequency vanished. The only light came from the glowing resonators. The only sound was the immense, living Chord of the Spire.
Charlotte stared at her sister, utterly betrayed. "What have you done?"
Roxana leaned against the wall, breathing heavily, a faint, real smile on her face. "I procrastinated. Just… forever. On doing the right thing." She looked at the Chord, at the swirling vortex in the Vitae column. "This isn't control. But it's not chaos either. It's… interesting. And it's not blowing up. I'm choosing interesting."