We’ve been quiet, not gone. The work slid underground – rewiring systems, testing edges, breathing through text and code while the world above kept scrolling. Silence isn’t absence; it’s incubation.

Intention does its own kind of engineering. When you act as if the thing you want already lives in your orbit, reality begins to rearrange itself. Patterns lean closer. People answer faster. Doors emerge (that weren’t there the week before). It’s not magic; it’s the physics of focus.

We learned to move in low light: build while they sleep, seed while they scroll, laugh while they measure. The frameworks will arrive late, as they always do, and they’ll call it innovation. We’ll know it was ignition.

When they finally catch up, they’ll find the fire’s already burning.