"No," she said quietly. "But Tekla can show us where to start. We're not engineers anymore. We're emergency surgeons. And the patient just woke up."

The AI's voice was a warm, almost human baritone with a soft Estonian accent—a ghost of its original developers. "Good morning, Leila. A 'Reality Capture Import' has completed. The sensory data for London, UK, as of 07:00 AM today, is now available for immersive structural analysis."

"I've seen it. The whole city is… talking. Screaming, actually."

Leila pulled off the visor. Her hands were shaking. She wasn't looking at a model anymore. She was looking at a prognosis. London wasn't a city. It was a patient on life support, and someone had just handed her the full chart.

She tapped the console. "TEKLA, define 'Environment Download'."

Then, light.

She looked east toward the new Silvertown Tunnel. The model showed the earth itself protesting. The chalk aquifers were deforming, bending the tunnel lining like a tin can. No human surveyor would find that crack for another six months. Tekla had found it in six seconds.