The celebration in Jiangnan didn’t end with the fireworks. It ended with a silence so deep it felt like the ocean had swallowed the city. As the last embers of the lanterns drifted into the dark water, Xin felt a final, massive shift in the Great Needle’s resonance. It wasn't a spike of pain this time; it was a long, slow exhale.
Xin stood at the very top of the Needle, his hand resting on the smooth, white bark of the Mother-Seed’s new growth. Beside him, Mei was checking a small monitor, her eyes reflecting the soft green pulse of the tree. Pip was fast asleep on a pile of gear bags, her hatchet tucked under her arm like a stuffed toy.
"The numbers are flat, Xin," Mei whispered, her voice full of a strange kind of peace. "No more spikes. No more ghosts. The 100 sectors aren't fightin
