The gathering wasn't held in the shelter grid.It wasn't held in the council chamber—because there wasn't one.
Instead, Cael chose the base of the Memory Wall.
A symbolic choice. Dangerous, too. Memory made people brave—and stupid.
"This isn't a vote," Cael said. "It's a draft."
The crowd stood in a loose circle. Survivors, children, workers, thinkers. Four dozen pairs of eyes, most uncertain, some defiant.
"Each of us will contribute to a shared structure. One we all use. One we all shape. The system will adapt based on consensus points."
Myla stood to his left. Arna to his right. Riven farther back, arms folded.
Nell hovered near the perimeter, glowing faintly.
Malen watched silently from the edge.
[PUBLIC DESIGN GATHERING INITIATED]Structure Category: CommunalTheme: "A space we all return to"
Participants registered: 41Influence Bias Detected: 4
• [Protectionist Civic]• [Emotive Legacy]• [Technocratic Minimalism]• [Architectural Iconography]
Design System: Co-Weighted Draft Loop – 3 Rounds
Cael projected the base shell: a central civic hub, adaptable for future modification. Just walls, a platform, and flexible attachment points.
Then he stepped back.
Let them shape it.
Arna was the first to speak. Her voice was steady, calm.
"We need light. Not glowshards—real warmth. People should feel like they can come here without duty."
She dragged a hearth dome module into the shared schematic. Rounded stone, radiant core, soft seating alcoves. It shifted the blueprint's axis immediately.
The system responded.
[Emotive Legacy Thread: +6%]Current Design Alignment: Memory-Oriented
Riven stepped forward next.
"Fine. Warm is good. But it's not a place if it's not safe."
He snapped a load-bearing strut into place. Reinforced entry locks. Limited sightlines. Elevated exits.
[Protectionist Civic Thread: +5%]
Myla smirked, then added arch windows lined with rune-filament glass.
"Let it see and be seen."
[Architectural Iconography Thread: +4%]
Others began stepping forward—some suggesting airflow grids, others mural space, others automated food dispensers.
Cael stood silent.
He watched the threads braid, each addition forcing compromise, reshaping the system's mood.
Until Malen stepped forward.
He didn't speak.
He just loaded a new module.
It was labeled: Threshold Shrine.
A narrow, quiet alcove. At its center: a spiral set in broken stone.
"This is where people decide who they're going to be before they step inside," Malen whispered.
The air changed.
Cael froze.
So did Foundation.
[UNREGISTERED STRUCTURE INTEGRATION]Subroutine Detected: OBSIDIAN CHURCH – Initiate Marker
Influence Echo: Pattern Contamination Risk – Low
Accept into blueprint?
Malen looked up at him.
Not defiant.
Just... curious.
"Everyone's got a belief, right?"
The crowd murmured.
Some confused.
Some disturbed.
Myla watched Cael closely.
Waiting.
The system highlighted the module in gray—undecided.A soft pulse blinked above it:
This is the moment.
Cael looked down at the broken spiral in the mock-up.
It wasn't large.
It wasn't loud.
But it was a seed.
And seeds didn't stay quiet for long.