Elara stood at the edge of the newly constructed amphitheater on Halcyon Reach, arms crossed as the last of the support crews cleared out. The rim world had stabilized faster than projections, but Governor Harlan kept pushing for the old Anchor Rite.
"It's not just wires and code," he had said in the final briefing. "People need to feel the lattice in their bones. Core folk, rim settlers, the mentorship grads—everyone binds or it frays later."
Elara had approved a controlled version. No full chaos, no uncontrolled drift. She, Sabrina, and Veyra would run the core sequence themselves. The resonance platform sat low and wide under the open starlight, arrays already humming at standby.
Fifty-plus participants waited in concentric rings—technicians in crisp uniforms, settlers with dust still on their boots, graduates carrying the quiet confidence of the Sanctum's training.
