THE ELEVEN marks lit at once.
The floor became a clock with Caleb standing where the hands should meet.
Under the city, metal answered his name.
It came through his bones before it reached his ears. A deep shift. A patient weight turning toward a voice it had been taught to hear.
Caleb's silver opened inside his ribs.
Sam's voice cut across it.
"Caleb."
He held his hands loose.
"Body waits for me."
The silver paused. It still wanted the room. It still wanted the chair. It wanted the eleven because the eleven wanted him.
Want was dangerous in this building.
The screen above the chair printed:
NEXT REVIEW: THE ELEVEN.
ATTENDANCE CONFIRMED.
COURT RECOGNITION ACTIVE.
Tali read the words twice. "Court recognition. That's the trap."
The woman stood beside the chair now, one hand resting on its back.
"Recognition is harmless."
"Then you would have called it witness," Sam said.
Sefa gave a quiet laugh. "He is learning your vocabulary."
