Third person POV:
It was surreal.
Slowly, Lincoln exhaled.
The Forge lay against the bedside table, in sword form, its runes quiet but faintly luminescent—responding to his heartbeat like a living thing. Threads of time-energy pulsed beneath the surface of the metal, steady now, restrained.
Ayaana watched it more than the city below.
“How does it feel? ” she asked softly.
Lincoln leaned forward, thinking for the right answer.
"Like it remembers things I don't," he whispered.
"Not visions. but impressions. Cold. Pressure. Weight."
She frowned slightly. "Residual chrono-burn."
“So I ignite in reverse.”
“In a highly academic sense—yes.” She said in poker faced.
A hint of laughter burst out in his lips.
Ayaana fingertips flared emerald as she bring up a lily bloom—pure white with
