The clock on the wall of Villa 3 read 11:42 PM.
The room was dark. The only light came from the blue holographic glow of the datapad sitting on the mahogany desk. It displayed a detailed topographical map of Sector 9, the Fungal Caverns.
Vane sat in the chair, staring at the map. He had been staring at it for two hours, but he had not absorbed a single detail.
He was exhausted.
His eyes felt like they were filled with sand. The muscles in his back were knotted tight enough to snap a violin string. He had not slept more than four hours a night for the past week. It was not insomnia. It was instinct.
Every time he closed his eyes, the [Usurper] screamed.
Predator. Proximity. Danger.
Sometimes it was just Ashe sitting on his roof, watching the stars. Sometimes she was in the tree line, carving a piece of wood. Sometimes she just threw a pebble at his window to see if he would wake up.
