Echoes of the Missing

The descent into Tokyo felt like falling through layers of song. Mishka could feel them—old frequencies vibrating up through the earth, new ones humming through the city's electronics, all of them weaving together into something that made her throat ache with the need to join the chorus.

"Picking up massive energy fluctuations from the venue," one of the containment team members reported from his equipment. "The patterns... they're similar to what we saw at the mansion, but larger. Much larger."

Through the jet's windows, they could see the fashion show venue rising like a modernist dream of glass and steel. But now, with her senses still heightened from the earlier singing, Mishka could see something else—threads of light running through the building's foundations, pulsing in rhythm with patterns she somehow recognized.

"Mom's research notes," she said suddenly, turning to Shaun. "The ones about the Tokyo site. She wasn't just mapping the node, was she?"