You are halfway up the thousand steps of the Chronicle when the Lantern District lets go. There is no crash, only a long soft sigh behind you, and where a thousand lit windows hung in the dusk there is now a slow silver fog, folding in on itself like a page being closed. A woman runs past you down the steps, shouting a name into the fog, and the fog does not give it back. Above you the Chronicle doors stand open, and the Vaultmother is waiting between them with a book held shut in both hands.