Morning came quietly, almost reverently.
A pale light settled over the room where Alaric lay. The rain had stopped, but the smell of wet metal still hung in the air. Lina sat by his bed, legs pulled up, head resting on her knees. Her eyes burned from keeping watch, but she couldn't sleep.
Each breath he took was like a promise – and a threat.
He moved. Barely noticeable, a twitch of his fingers.
Lina raised her head immediately.
"Alaric?"
No answer. Just a soft humming – not a sound, but a vibration passing through the air.
The light in the room responded, flickered once, then twice, as if it were listening.
"Alaric, please."
He breathed deeper, his chest rising.
Then he opened his eyes.
Lina stepped back.
His gaze was clear – too clear. His gray eyes looked as if they had gained a second layer, a silvery shimmer that refracted in the light.
"Where..." He sat up, holding his forehead. "Where am I?"
"With us," she whispered. "In the Control Center."
"Us?"
