The Cryo-Wing medical bay felt fragile, like holding your breath underwater. The only sounds were the steady beep of Jin's heart monitor and the soft hum of Clara's shield generator. That quiet wasn't peaceful—it was tense, thick with things no one said out loud. The air had been heavy like this for days now, and none of them dared break it.
Sera stood near the cot, arms crossed tight. Her golden eyes never strayed from Jin's still form. She looked calm, but inside she was wound tight. She was the leader—the one everyone counted on—and every worry, every fear in the room rested on her shoulders. There was no room for doubt.
On the other side, Rosa paced. She looked like a panther trapped, energy coiled and ready to spring, but unable to. The playful spark she usually carried was gone. Instead, she moved fluidly through the cramped space, her blue plasma dagger humming softly in her hand. It sliced through the air with a practiced grace, like a dance—an outlet for her restlessness.
