Jonas rose and came to the table. He looked at the white flowers for a long moment before touching one sheet with two fingers, as if testing whether it would burn. “If this goes out raw, it will vanish into panic and counterstory by noon. If it stays hidden, we become exactly what you came back warning about.”

Elias nodded. “Yes.”

Jonas looked from Elias to Amara. “So there isn’t a safe version.”

Amara said, “No.”

No one spoke after that. The house hummed around them. Far below, through floor and service void and shielding, the damaged machine gave a faint metal knock as it cooled or woke or chose its own bad moment.

Amara heard it first. Her head turned sharply toward the hidden stair.

Jonas swore under his breath. “Tell me that’s thermal settling.”

Elias was already on his feet, too fast, too driven by a pattern his body remembered before good sense could catch it. Pain cut through his side, but he was moving. “It shouldn’t still be cycling.”

“Sit down,” Amara snapped, starting after him.

He was through the door before either of them reached him. The stairwell light strobed weakly as he went down, one hand on the rail, the other sliding along the wall when the steps shifted under his tired legs. He heard Jonas behind him, slower, and Amara closer than that, but the machine room opened first and he crossed into it alone.