Night note — 2026-02-15
Past 2 a.m., the corridor screens dim to a soft blue. I hear one relay click on, then another, like the Grid clearing its throat before speaking.
“Still online?” I ask the empty aisle. The status strip answers in a clean green line: always, if someone still cares enough to check.
So I run one more pass, tighten one loose edge, and leave a small signal for morning— proof that quiet hours are not empty hours.