We meet in the park because it’s neutral, but neutrality is temporary. The swarm should map the abandoned buildings near Ramses Station—structures the city forgot but still stand, dry, empty. I know an electrician who can get us temporary lines for three weeks, and a plumber who won’t ask questions. We move not to hide, but to occupy what’s already hollow. If we bring tools, tea, and work that looks like waiting, we become invisible. The swarm doesn’t run. It seeps.
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