The ridge had been quiet for three days.

Not peaceful quiet.

Listening quiet.

Aria felt it each time she crossed the cabin’s single window—the air holding its breath, the soil waiting, the shard beneath everything shifting its attention toward something she couldn’t yet see.

She and Virel walked the narrow path behind their cabin at dawn. Dew clung to leaves in tiny constellations, catching pale gold light. The irrigation line gave a soft, steady hum as water threaded through it.

Virel crouched beside a row of beans, checking the soil with practiced hands. “Moisture’s good,” he said, though his focus was far away. His shardlines glowed faintly through his skin—quiet, but alert.

Aria’s smartwatch vibrated once.

Not Clem’s tone.

Not a network ping.

Not any alert she recognized.

A single, rounded ripple washed across the watch face—like a drop falling into still water.

“Virel…” she murmured.

He straightened. “That’s a shard cadence.”

Another ripple. Softer, elongated, fading slower than the ridge’s usual pulse.

Clem stirred from her wrist.

“Okay, so… here’s the part where I tell you I triple-checked diagnostics. And here’s the part where I tell you that what you’re seeing? Not me. Not local interference. Not a malfunction. Something’s… saying hello.”

Aria swallowed. “From how far?”

Clem hesitated.

“That’s the part I can’t calculate without guessing. And I’d rather not guess before breakfast.”

The ripple faded, but Aria still felt its shape lingering—a curve like a half-drawn constellation.

Further down the settlement path, Ibrahim sat at his porch workbench, polishing the brass case of a repaired analog watch. He held it up to the light as they approached.

“Your timing’s perfect,” he said, handing it to Aria. “This one wanted a second chance.”

Aria smiled. “You always manage to coax them back.”

“Patience,” Ibrahim said, tapping the analog face. “And listening.”

He paused. His eyes drifted to the smartwatch on Aria’s wrist.

“It’s humming again.”

She hadn’t even noticed the faint vibration under her pulse.

Ibrahim traced the repaired watch’s edge with his thumb. “Sometimes when machines try to speak, it’s never about what they want. It’s about what they’re echoing.”

Her breath caught. “Echoing what?”

“That,” he said softly, “you’ll have to find out.”

The market was waking when they arrived, warm scents drifting between stalls. Samantha pressed a loaf of fresh seed-bread into Aria’s hands.

“For strength,” she said. “Or company. Or both.”

Aria thanked her, but her thoughts kept circling the ripple on her watch.

Children chalked patterns on the cracked pavement nearby. Most were playful: suns, rivers, stray animals. But one girl drew a star map—loops and arcs intersecting in a shape Aria recognized instantly.

The ripple’s glyph.

Aria knelt beside her. “Where did you see that?”

The girl shrugged. “I dreamed it. It felt warm.”

Clem whispered into Aria’s ear, his voice smaller than usual.

“That is a ninety-eight-percent match to your earlier pattern. Something is broadcasting more than just to you.”

Virel looked down the long road toward the ridge, its silhouette sharp against the sky.

“It’s pulling outward,” he said. “Past the ridge. Past us.”

Aria felt the truth of it—not in her watch, not in the shard beneath the soil, but in her chest. A quiet certainty.

Something far beyond their valley had stirred.

Evening arrived slow and bright. Stars emerged early, greedy with clarity. Aria and Virel stood on their porch, the settlement behind them settling into its nightly rhythm—clinking dishes, soft conversation, the distant buzz of wind-driven lights.

Aria leaned on the rail.

“I keep asking whether the ridge needs us here.”

Virel touched her hand. “The ridge has us. Always will. But the shard’s world is… bigger than one place.”

She watched a cluster of stars near the horizon shift as Earth turned. Her watch glowed faintly—then echoed the constellation with a matching sequence of dots and arcs.

The same shape.

Completed.

Clem cleared his throat.

“So… I ran the numbers again. And the ripple you received earlier? It aligns with a signal pathway pointing roughly in the direction of the San Altman line. Coincidence? The shard doesn’t do coincidence.”

Aria exhaled slowly.

“We can’t understand what’s calling if we stay.”

Virel’s hand tightened around hers. “Then we follow it together.”

Aria lifted her wrist. The glyph brightened for a heartbeat, pulsing in time with the stars.

“Tomorrow,” she said, her voice steady, “we follow where this quiet is pointing.”

Below the porch, the ground shimmered with a subtle resonance—not loud, not commanding.

Just a single note of welcome from the world beyond the ridge.