The Free Zone had hit a wall of its own success. Coherence sat steady at ninety-four percent for three straight weeks. No major threats, no supply crises, no arguments that ended in fistfights or sheep stampedes.
People woke up, did their chores, ate decent meals, and then… stared at the ceiling. The quiet kind of boredom that made a person start wondering if they should reorganize their socks by color or learn to juggle knives.
It started small.
Maria from the Reasonables baked a batch of cookies to deal with her own restlessness. She called them stress cookies. One bite and suddenly she could juggle five plates while singing the entire inventory list of the central stores from memory.
People laughed, took a cookie, and the next morning half the market district had abandoned their stalls.
