Lena positioned the staking gun. “We’re not patching this weld. We’re cutting out the entire section and replacing it.”

Lena didn’t smile. “In the old days, yes. But we don’t follow the old days. We follow NORSOK R-001.”

Lena nodded. Outside, the sun broke through the clouds for the first time in days, lighting up the platform’s legs—every weld perfect, every brace true. Not because of pragmatism. Not because of profit.

Kael squinted through his AR visor. The fissure glowed amber in his display, flagged by the platform’s embedded sensor mesh. “It’s 0.3 millimeters. Well within tolerance, right?”