Dock Seven doesn’t sleep but after Sel A lit their calibration test and half the Veins flickered like they were deciding whether to implode, it feels like something is holding the dock’s breath for it.
Even with Theron unconscious from the Crown-web strike,
Kaien barking orders into three encrypted channels,
and Cassian practically vibrating with statistical rage…
…my resonance keeps drifting toward one direction.
Toward him.
Toward the i***t who told me to breathe while blood dripped down his jaw.
Storm-mad, loud-hearted, impossible Theron.
The med bay is a narrow compartment on Sera’s ship. A tray of supplies that rattle every time the engines shift.
He lies on the bunk, shirt discarded, bandages strapped across his ribs, eyes closed but not peacefully. He twitches like someone
