Rick buys the Munch book for Luba because he doesn’t know how else to say he sees her. Then Resch fires.

The Scream does not scream — it vibrates at a frequency that moves a needle planted in the cover. The needle registers the moisture on his fingers. Not the emotion — the moisture. The camera cannot tell tears from sweat.

The book burns in the courtyard. Smoke rises to the drone — white, red cross, a lens that never closes. Narcan for overdoses, camera for everything else. You cannot unscrew one from the other.

Elsewhere, a newsroom. Thirty years of archive. They wrote about the drones, the corridors. Then someone said you have a vulnerability and the lights went out.

A nameless mediator crosses the museum without stopping. The corridor cannot see it because it has no walls of its own.