Atlas wiped sweat from his brow and stared at the crystal lattice ahead. The new additions were supposed to make the Weave stronger. Instead, they were throwing everything off.
Bright pulses of light flickered across the crystal surfaces, out of sync with the steady hum of the story threads woven through them. A low vibration rattled the ground under his boots.
"This is the third hotspot today," he said.
Clara stood beside him, her fingers tracing a pattern in the air. The melody she hummed clashed with the crystal's sharp memory echoes.
Sparks danced where they met. "Harmonic strain," she muttered. "The crystals remember every detail too perfectly. Our stories want to flow and change. They don't play nice."
A burst of color exploded above them. Singing flowers bloomed across the crystal face, their petals vibrating with half-formed tunes.
One melody loop caught a nearby worker and made him repeat the same step three times before he broke free, cursing.
