The devastating storm had temporarily subsided, but its aftershocks continued to ripple across the globe. While Schneider was busy with the news blackout, Pompeii chose to lie low, and Tachibana Masamune was filled with doubt, some key figures on the fringes of the storm were trying to piece together the truth of that terrifying night in their own ways.
Cassell College, temporary command center (formerly the Library underground bunker). The atmosphere remained tense, but had shifted from initial panic to pressurized, orderly activity. Technicians worked to repair equipment damaged when Chǔ Zǐháng lost control, while members of the Execution Department hurried about, relaying encrypted messages. Nono, clad in a Cassell combat suit stained with oil, leaned against a workbench piled with damaged circuit boards, a cigarette stick unlit between her lips, her sharp eyes scanning everyone's expressions and every flickering screen. She had just returned from the rescue site outside the Three Gorges, carrying exhaustion and a gut full of questions. The state of the Moniahe, the incoherent accounts of survivors, and the college's sudden, almost neurotic, escalation of alert levels all made her keenly aware that the official story of an "experimental accident" was utter nonsense.
"Here, we've recovered some of the data," a familiar technician said, handing her a tablet and lowering his voice. "It's the physiological data backup from the last few minutes before Senior Brother Zihang lo…