Anomaly 7

More than a thousand readings across thirty-five square metres. The instrument weighs the ground as if gravity were a thin map.

Low density, then square patches of denser dark — right angles, parallel to the north wall.

They looked for an open room and missed the corridor two metres wide, packed with rubble that still reads as lighter than stone.

The press names a queen. The looking is the empty that has not been entered, and the wall that keeps holding.