In the corridor beyond, the conduits sparked once. Faint light flashed across the walls.
Elias pushed himself upright, His shard pulsed in his chest, heavy. The prompt still hovered, timer burning bright. 24 minutes left.
He looked at Vira. Her serpent Ikona coiled tighter, red glow dulling slightly in the dim light. Asurik stood just behind her, magma lines flickering faint along his Ikona's arms.
"You're not killing anyone else," Elias said. His voice didn't rise—but it carried. "Locking the door's enough. There's a software flaw in the panel. It's how we got out. Without me, they can't open it again."
The shard behind his eyes flared. Darkness bled through his sclera, one point of red light burning in his iris. He scanned the group—his perception ability kicking in—marking the weak spots across their torsos, tracking breathing, pressure, posture.
The pod's screens buzzed and flickered. Light reflected off the glass—casting warped glimpses of the others:
