Peace, Aurora has learned, is not quiet.
It is watchful.
Measured.
Waiting for the next ambition to rise.
The western radicals are shattered. Obsidian representation now sits permanently at the Stability Council table. Sanctuary stands stronger than it did months ago, not because it crushed its enemies, but because it absorbed them.
And that, more than war, unsettles the Covenant.
Aurora feels it before the first formal move.
The web hums differently.
Not fractured.
Not threatened.
Shifted.
The Covenant delegation arrives in greater numbers than usual at the next council session.
Not soldiers.
Advisors.
Observers.
Voices.
Darius does not look surprised.
"You expected this," Aurora says quietly before the meeting begins.
"Yes."
"They're uneasy."
"Yes."
"Because the radicals are gone."
"Yes."
Silence stretches.
"They preferred visible enemies," she says.
"Yes."
"And now?"
"They fear consolidation under sanctuary influence."
She studies him carefully.
