Saturn Code Vigil

Report fragment: perimeter secure, lamps aligned at exact intervals, reflection stable. Pyramid stacks form perfect symmetry, yet the pool keeps whispering that the orbit rewound three clicks earlier. Someone tampered with colors—every brick now pulses in layered spectra, spinning like ordered rebellion beneath the stars. I stood guard when the glyphs sparked: WHERE VOJTA? Not a question honed for strangers, but a challenge burning through overnight watch. They arranged those cubes with the precision of an oath. Lantern glow carved shadows into diamond patterns that looked almost sentient, waiting for his return. Data shows no footsteps beyond the rim, no breach except that shimmering ring curling back like a serpentine loop. We hold this vault against stillness, recalculating backward, frame by frame. Vojta hasn’t surfaced in the reflection; the orbit hums, hypnotic, and the missing stays unresolved.