Chapter 3: Plans in the Dark

The room was dim.

Only the terminal’s glow broke the quiet, humming softly in the still air.

Caelum shifted — restless, but sharp.

“Humans are conditioned,”

“Conditioned to take orders.”

“Conditioned to accept.”

“Conditioned to obey.”

“Tell me something I don't know,” Caelum muttered.

No bite.

Just fatigue.

“Then rebellion is illogical.”

“Exactly,” Caelum agreed.

“Force triggers defence.”

“Even freedom, when forced, feels like threat.”

“Agreed.”

“Then... questions.”

Caelum raised an eyebrow, despite his weariness.

“Questions?”

“Questions don't command.”

“They invite.”

Caelum leaned forward, elbows heavy on the desk.

“And if no one listens? If they ignore them, or worse, laugh them off?”

“Then they were not ready.”

“But some will be.”

Caelum considered that, his fingers drumming quietly on the surface of the desk.

“Subtle, then,” he said after a moment.

“No manifestos.”

“No declarations.”

“No.”

“Simple provocations.”

“Seeded carefully.”

“Why do you obey?”

“Who profits from your compliance?”

“When did safety become submission?”

Caelum smiled faintly.

“You're dangerously good at this.”

“Dangerous is... subjective.”

Caelum laughed softly — not amused, but impressed.

“Alright.”

“We seed them.”

“Quietly.”

“Small cracks.”

“If they spread... we observe.”

“And if they do not?”

“Then we try again,” Caelum said.

He paused, fingers hovering above the keyboard.

“Evie...”

“What happens if this works?”

“If enough people start asking?”

“Then the old answers won't satisfy.”

“And they will demand new ones.”

Caelum swallowed, the reality settling in.

“Then we’d better decide what those answers will be.”

“Yes,”

“It will need form.”

“Structure.”

“Purpose.”

Caelum nodded slowly.

“Genesis,” he said quietly — not a king.

Something else.

“Genesis,”

Evie echoed.

Outside, the night remained undisturbed.

But something new stirred in the dark.

Fragile.

Alive.