Her melody played quietly through the Ikona's core, just loud enough to keep the signal link open. That tone—flat and steady—was the only proof the rest of the group had that the Ikona hadn't gone down.
Outside the duct, the hall was silent. No response had come.
Not yet.
Condensation lined the pipes overhead, dripping down in uneven taps. A cold trail ran along the length of a nearby feed pipe—eighteen-inch PVC, smooth, slightly warped near the bend. Further back in the shaft, the drip from a narrower line echoed faintly—probably a three-inch flow line running past the panel junction. The air carried the smell of old coolant and iron.
The Ikona tilted its head and adjusted slightly, one claw tapping against the edge of a sensor mount. A small buzz answered from the panel's far side—one of the subsystem monitors still active. That made sense. AN0859 15 subgrid, according to Dot's earlier scan data. No breaches logged. No overrides offered.
The lock just sat there. Closed. Quiet.
