Roxie's POV
Every machine in the compound died the moment my mother walked deeper inside.
It was not like before, when my own panic had fried the lights. This was quieter and far stranger. Katya's screens went black one by one. The hum of the generators stuttered and fell silent. Even the small things—the buzz of a lamp, the tick of a wall clock—simply stopped, as if the building were holding its breath in the presence of something it had no language for. Lysandra did not seem to notice. She walked through it the way a mountain walks through weather. Power did not pour off of her. It was simply *her*, contained and deliberate, like a sea pressed quietly behind a wall of glass.
"Walk with me," she said. "Just us. There is little time, and what I have to say is yours alone to hear first.
