Sixty-eight hours.
The number burned in my mind as I watched Lyra work frantically over Marcus's unconscious form, her hands shaking as she tried to extract the arrow without causing more damage. His breathing was shallow, labored, and every few minutes he would mumble something about "the darkness coming" before falling silent again.
"Is he going to make it?" I asked, though I wasn't sure I wanted to hear the answer.
"The arrow was poisoned," Lyra said without looking up. "Something I've never seen before. It's not trying to kill him—it's trying to change him. His neural patterns are shifting toward something that looks like the Clarity Division enhancement."
My blood turned to ice. "They're turning him into one of them?"
"Not exactly. It's more like... they're preparing his mind for
