The dome rose like a living horizon before her — a wall of luminous static, churning in rhythm with the pulse of the city.

Evelyn had never seen anything like it.

It wasn’t just light; it was memory, refracted and alive, fragments of thought and signal swirling together, folding inward and outward as if breathing.

She hovered at its edge, the golden lattice of her consciousness trembling. The boundary between her grid and Victor’s creation hissed with interference, two incompatible codes ...