The Crystal of Silence. «In a perfect world, her imperfection is the only crime.»

Suddenly, from the darkness of the tunnel, a sound drifted. Singing. A soft, pure, slightly off-key woman’s voice singing an old lullaby in a forgotten language. The song pushed through the industrial roar like a shoot through asphalt.

The guide froze. His aura softened for a moment.

“Hear that? That’s Lyra. She pawned her voice to Cumulus to pay for her son’s operation. The boy lived. But her voice now belongs to a collector on the Pinnacle. And she… sings here. From memory. Every evening. So she won’t forget what it feels like to own something completely.”

The singing cut off, swallowed by the roar of a freight convoy.

Kaylen felt nausea. The world of Twilight was a world of shards left behind after Eidos had stripped people to the bone.

“How will you get into Cumulus?”

“We have a guide. Vesper. A hunter of rare, ‘wild’ Echoes. The best in the business. And she hates Cumulus almost as much as we do. But her hatred is personal. Which means it’s more dangerous.”

He stood, his shadow dancing hugely on the walls.

“Think until tomorrow night. But ‘Watch — Category 2’ isn’t static. The Labyrinth’s algorithms are already recalculating probabilities. You have maybe two or three days. Before some neural net cluster decides the Shimmer is a symptom of systemic threat. Then they’ll come to your door with injectors and a mobile dome.”

He handed over a small, cold crystal — a single-use channel chip.

“If you decide — activate it. We’ll set up a meeting with Vesper. If not… try to buy her a spot in line for ‘aura correction.’ I’m sure they have a package: ‘Quiet, Socially Acceptable Life Plan.’ Discount if you pay with your last memories of her.”