"Don't panic," Juliet said, holding up the city bulletin.
Frank stared at the holographic projection floating above her wristband.
Then back down at the symbol someone had scrawled across the front of his building.
Then back at her.
"I'm not panicking," he said. "I'm just... recalculating how many people I need to yell at today."
Juliet folded her arms. "It's not just you. Look."
She tapped the projection—dozens of red flags appeared on a city map: train stations, rooftops, storefronts, even the fountain in Guild Square.
Each one had a crude five-point symbol, hastily painted, etched, or burned into place.
Same jagged corners. Same uneven spacing.
The same one Frank had seen in the forest.
The same one he thought no one else would ever use again.
He leaned closer to the bulletin. "City's calling it an art prank?"
Juliet snorted. "Association tagged it as non-harmful. Just 'esoteric vandalism.'"
