Chapter Fifty-One – The Illusion of Repair
Horizon Gate moved quickly.
Too quickly.
Emergency task forces were formed overnight. New communication trees were issued. Department heads were instructed to submit hourly performance reports — a frantic attempt to regain visibility over systems already slipping beyond their control.
Xinyue watched it unfold with calm precision.
Jun's update arrived in fragments. "They're pushing morale campaigns. Workshops. Loyalty reminders. They think if people feel stable, the system will stabilize."
"They're treating symptoms," Xinyue replied. "Not structure."
She activated a silent overlay, tracking the emotional language used in internal messages. Words like team, trust, and security were increasing — an early warning sign of institutional anxiety.
By afternoon, she met Wei in a quiet tea house. His eyes darted before he spoke. "They're planning internal screenings. Behavioral profiling. They're afraid of an insider threat."
Xinyue stirred her tea slowly. "Fear creates more insiders than it finds."
That night, a Horizon Gate logistics manager made a mistake — a rushed authorization that misdirected a key delivery node. It delayed multiple operations. Nothing catastrophic. But noticeable.
Xinyue allowed the delay to ripple.
She leaned back, gaze thoughtful. The frightened girl who had once hidden from closed doors and silent hallways had become the architect of open fractures.
And Horizon Gate was now repairing walls that no longer held.