The data streams in the control room were no longer just lines on a screen. They were music.
Yuki had adjusted the visualizers to represent the grid's frequency as audio. Normally, the Horizon grid sounded like a low, steady hum. A cello held on a single note. But today, there was a new layer. A higher pitch. Sharper. Metallic.
"It's them," Yuki said, adjusting her headphones. "Their system is feeding back into ours."
I stood behind her, watching the waveforms overlap. The green line was ours. Smooth. Organic. The blue line was theirs. Jagged. Precise.
"Is it stable?" I asked.
"Technically, yes," Yuki said. "But it's creating interference patterns. Like ripples in a pond when two stones are thrown."
"Constructive or destructive?"
"Mostly constructive. Efficiency is up another five p
