Chapter Four: The Black Tower's Stomach

The road ended at a metal door bearing Canopy's old logo. Beyond it was not a basement but the data-cleansing center on the forty-seventh floor. Thousands of phones faced outward from black racks like rows of open eyes. Transparent tubes climbed from them, carrying specks of gold into the ceiling. Each speck was identity weight taken from someone. “Citadel is feeding,” Echo said. Lin Wu raised Lighthouse. Its beam revealed blank names on the screens: Xu Shanming, Tang Ji, and countless others no one had remembered in time. “Record it,” Cheng Ye said. “Ordinary images won't hold.” “Don't record what was deleted. Record the deletion.”