Aarya Menon Part 1: The Resonance The ship woke before the people did. That was how Mira always felt it—an undercurrent tremor rippling through the decks, like the Ark was stretching after a night’s dream. Then the alarms chimed soft and steady, a metronome for the morning ritual. Mira sat up on her cot in the medic quarters, pressing two fingers to the side of her neck. Her pulse stuttered, uneven, refusing the calm rhythm that the ship demanded. She swallowed hard, wiped her face, and stood. Outside the narrow corridor, hundreds were already moving in silence toward the Grand…