Rhodes Island at night was all white light and humming glass—clean air, steady vents, the ocean's breath pressing softly against the windows. I dropped my torn coat on the back of a chair, rolled up my sleeves, and slid a vial of my blood into the reader. The centrifuge answered with a gentle purr. My hands shook once, then remembered what they were doing.
"Salt Lake to Rhode Island," Tesla's voice came through the comm, half static, half attitude. "Report, Doctor Chaos. Please tell me Nagazora didn't fry that overclocked brain of yours."
I pressed the comm. "Brain's fine. Hair's a lost cause."
Einstein's voice followed—steady, clear, a tone that could calm a reactor. "Welcome back, Florence. Begin with environmental data. Peak density, decay rate, any anomalies in the Honkai field."
"Peak density hit level eight before it dropped off," I said, watching the data climb across my screen. "The field's decay wasn't linear. Spiked, then flattened out—like steps instead of a slope. Resonance matched Herrscher levels, but… it didn't feel hostile."
Tesla snorted. "Didn't feel hostile? What, did the apocalypse give you a hug?"
"Call it a professional instinct," I said. "The energy shifted halfway through—less destructive, more reactive. Like something human was holding it back."
A short pause. Then Einstein again. "Understood. Exposure levels?"
"Moderate. I stayed behind the line most of the time. No visible infection or collapse." I pulled another vial from the cooler and set it under the scope. "Vitals are normal. Blood pressure boring. Neural output within range."
"Good. Proceed," Einstein said.
I keyed in the scan, the monitor blooming with helixes. Schariac strands intertwined with Kaslana code—Otto's little masterpiece. The MANTIS integrations pulsed faintly blue.
"Holy Blood's still stable," I said, adjusting the focus. "MANTIS structure's holding. I'm getting less interference between the Schariac and Kaslana channels. Looks like the bloodline vectors are finally learning to share."
Tesla chuckled. "So your DNA's in therapy now. Great."
"Whatever works," I said. "The Schariac pathways are regulating the Honkai absorption while the Kaslana vector's stabilizing my output. No internal conflict. I might actually get a quiet week."
"That would be a first," Einstein replied.
The edge of the blood sample glimmered faintly under magnification—gold light pulsing through crimson. "Interesting," I murmured. "The Holy pathways adapted to Nagazora's field by syncing, not resisting. Same pattern we logged in the last construct trial, but stronger this time."
Tesla's voice crackled. "So your blood's still rewriting the rules. You're lucky it's not grading us, too."
"Give it time," I said. "It learns fast."
Einstein hummed softly over the line. "We'll need full harmonization data. I'll model the resonance once you send the sample logs."
"Already uploading." I dragged the data set to their secure channel. "File name: F-02 Origin, Post-Nagazora harmonization."
Tesla made a low whistle. "Remind me to stop betting against you. You're too stubborn to break."
"Not stubborn," I said. "Just underpaid."
Einstein's tone softened. "You did well out there, Florence. The readings alone are valuable, but you saved lives. That matters."
"Maybe," I said, leaning back in my chair. The monitor reflected off the glass, blue light cutting across my face. "Hard to tell where the science ends and the miracle begins."
Tesla sighed. "Don't go philosophical on us. Go to bed. You sound half-dead."
"I'll sleep when the centrifuge stops spinning."
"Florence."
I smiled faintly. "Fine, fine. Ten more minutes."
The comms went quiet. I shut off the lab lights, leaving only the microscope glow—a small circle of gold pulsing steady in the dark.
"Doctors leave last," I said softly, because the habit was older than sleep.
Then I stood, stretched, and walked out of the light.