The day after Auristrade folded, the shock didn't crest—it propagated. What had been a guild headquarters now functioned as a theater of operations for a continent. Our expanded command center breathed in shifting blues and golds as holographic dashboards pulled in live feeds: market depth, ministry memos, energy flow maps, air traffic lattices, sentiment indices. If yesterday had been gravity switching on, today was the landscape settling into a new shape.
Outside, Avalon wore stormlight. Low clouds stacked over the river like slate; the wind gusted hard enough to throw a shiver through the window panes. Inside, everything ran hot and precise.
