The group was preparing to leave the antechamber when the central door’s hum rose. The sound deepened, vibrating through the floor and into the pedestal.
“Back to the entrance,” Luo called.
A pressure wave rolled through the room. Wei was thrown against the wall. Yan braced himself on the pedestal, but the force struck his ribs and shoved him sideways. The impact was external, heavy, and real.
Qinghe pointed toward the chalk cord. “Follow the marked route. No one crosses the circle.”
Gu studied the floor. “The broken relay sent the pulse through the old maintenance line.”
The first beat rattled the pedestal. The second pushed Wei hard enough against the wall that his breath came out in a grunt. On the third, the chalk cord lifted from the floor and struck Yan’s boot.
“Back!” Luo shouted.
The candidates had begun to file toward the entrance. Qinghe called them by pair, keeping them from crowding at the door. The pause came again. Yan looked up at the vent grille. Its slats flexed inward with the next beat.
