The numbers were still perfect.
That was the problem.
Akihiko stared at the projection wall, jaw tight. Stability curves held steady. Response time remained optimal. Deviation tolerance hovered well within sanctioned margins.
Everything looked correct.
"Run the overlay again," he said.
Valen complied.
A second graph appeared—behavioral imprint alignment.
It lagged.
Not enough to trigger protocol.
Enough to notice.
"This doesn't make sense," Valen muttered. "Output efficiency hasn't dropped."
Mizuki, seated farther back, folded her arms. "Then stop looking at output."
Akihiko glanced at her. "Explain."
"He's still producing results," Mizuki said. "But he's no longer present in them."
Masako leaned forward. "He's performing without anchoring."
Valen frowned. "That's not a thing."
Masako met his gaze. "It's an old thing."
The door chimed.
A junior analyst entered, visibly tense. "Sirs. Another null interval."
Akihiko stiffened. "Duration?"
"Four minutes. No surge. No compensation. No decay."
Valen swore under his breath. "That's not possible during active conditioning."
"Yet it's happening," Mizuki said quietly.
Akihiko's eyes narrowed. "Where?"
The analyst swallowed. "Unmarked terrain. Same classification as last time."
Silence spread.
Akihiko spoke carefully. "Who authorized relocation?"
"No one," the analyst replied. "He wasn't scheduled."
Valen turned sharply. "Raishin."
Masako nodded once. "Or someone older."
Akihiko's voice dropped. "You're suggesting a third influence."
Mizuki looked away. "I'm suggesting remembrance."
Akihiko stood. "Increase exposure. If the subject is disengaging, we reassert relevance."
Masako's cane struck the floor. "You'll accelerate collapse."
"We'll clarify alignment," Akihiko countered.
"No," Masako said. "You'll teach lightning that people are interchangeable."
Akihiko ignored her.
"Prepare a directive," he said to Valen. "Public operation. Multi-observer environment."
Valen hesitated. "That carries risk."
"So does uncertainty," Akihiko replied.
Elsewhere, Kurogane felt the change before the message arrived.
A familiar tightening.
Not pressure.
Expectation.
The summons appeared on his slate seconds later.
Mandatory Demonstration: Applied Capacity.Attendance: Required.Audience: Expanded.
Kurogane didn't react.
Raishin did.
"This is escalation," he said flatly.
"Yes," Kurogane replied. "They want me visible again."
Raishin studied him. "And you?"
Kurogane thought of the empty ground.Of silence that did not ask.Of a man who had watched without choosing.
"I won't disappear," Kurogane said. "But I won't perform for belief."
Raishin exhaled slowly. "That won't end quietly."
"No," Kurogane agreed. "That's the point."
That night, the internal brace did something new.
It hesitated.
Not because it was restricted.
But because it was being asked to represent something it no longer recognized.
Lightning did not object.
It waited.