Lyse did not come to settle.
She came as a delegate—full file, impeccable credentials,
and a cold determination to "read" this new form
as she had read the previous system:
from the outside, without involvement.
The first day, she simply took notes.
The second day, she began to observe patterns.
The third day, her notes stopped…
and became personal questions.
"Why is there no center?"
"How can direction grow without direction?"
"Why do I feel…relieved?"
She sat among the people who did not give themselves names,
never organized themselves,
but knew where to step when someone fell.
In her old world, Lyse had managed thousands of narratives.
Here, there was not a single narrative she could be sure of.
She tried to give advice.
Not rejected, not accepted.
Just…heard.
And that hurt more than rejection,
because it gave her no role.
