Juno kept reading the old instruction after it disappeared.
The rescued leader’s pencil hovered above the paper. For a moment Eli thought she would follow the new display, correcting the account to match the surface that claimed authority over it. Then Juno spoke the next line from the retained original, and the leader wrote that instead.
“Mark where the terminal changed,” Juno said. “Don’t close the sentence.”
She recorded the new display with its interruption time. One version had been preserved before entry and acknowledged by the forum. Another had been copied in part at the entrance, witnessed by the hunters who had followed it. The terminal now offered a different sequence. None of those facts had to disappear to make room for the others.
The leader looked from the paper to the screen.
“It makes it look like we left late.”
“It changes what the assignment shows,” Juno said. “We’ll compare the consequence after the versions are safe.”
Eli moved so her equipment was no longer exposed to the passing cart lane. He could feel anger gathering around the table. The hunters had come out exhausted, fearful of penalties for disobeying contradictory orders. Now the history was shifting beneath the very explanation they needed to defend themselves.
