The lab beneath the eastern tower had once been a relic — a forgotten research outpost buried under years of dust and outdated servers. Lin never thought he'd return here. The walls still hummed faintly with old energy, the ghosts of experiments long erased from public record.
Now it was their only sanctuary.
And their last hope.
Keller lay on the central platform, bare-chested, wires threading from his temples and spine into the diagnostic core. The light from the monitors painted his skin in shifting blues and silvers. His pulse was steady — too steady. Every beat synchronized with the low hum in the air, the resonance that had haunted them since the Seam cracked open again.
Hana stood by his side, refusing to step back. "You said this would help him," she murmured, her voice thin with exhaustion.
Lin didn't look up from the console. "It will—if we're lucky."
