Arden woke up in the Chronos Institute's medical bay. This time, it wasn't the smell of antiseptic that greeted her, but the faint scent of hot metal and ozone.
She tried to sit up, but a sharp pain shot through her right shoulder. She turned her head.
Her crystal arm was... different.
Before, it had been a solid, beautiful, static violet form. Now, the arm looked fractured. Fine fracture lines ran from her elbow to her fingertips, pulsing with an unstable white light. Dr. Aris was making adjustments to the metal restraint on Arden's shoulder with a precision laser tool.
"Careful," Dr. Aris murmured without looking up. "You're leaking chronal radiation. If you move too fast, you might age my eyebrows by fifty years."
"How bad is it?" Arden asked, her voice raspy.
