The deep archive vault was a tomb of silent information. Rows of data cores, stacked in tight geometric columns, reached toward the dark ceiling of the chamber. Every few seconds, a dim blue light pulsed through the frosted glass floor, a rhythmic heartbeat that kept time with the network’s memory cycles. The air here was thin, cold, and tasted like sterile dust. It was the only place in Delta-Seven where I could hear myself think, away from the grinding noise of the transit spine and the heat of the manufacturing rings.But even here, the universe wouldn't leave us alone.The corridor projection hovered like a ghost in the center of the vault, its translucent light shimmering against the dark data pillars. Khepri’s golden-threaded node sat at the center of a loose, beautiful web. It looked fragile, but it was growing. "They’re stabilizing," Monica said. She was standing by a core pillar, her face half-hidden in the blue shadows. She didn't look up from her screen, but her voice carr