Chapter Five: The Black Scoreboard

Lights, screens, and speakers died. Lin Xi counted three breaths in perfect darkness. On the fourth, red light rose through the pitch. A black scoreboard seemed buried beneath the soil. Its digits shone through the grass: -00:01, -00:02, -00:03. Time was entering negative territory. The crowd greeted it with delight. Six nodes flashed; the sixth stayed lit. Han's diagram had not disabled the backup. It had completed its handover. Cheng Ye seized Han's collar. “You knew.” “I knew the old system might start. We must pull its timing shaft from the eastern relay well.” Zhou frowned. “You said ‘must.’ We never told you the black board was counting.” Han watched him a fraction too long.