“Get out of my head.” I didn’t even recognize my own voice. It sounded layered. Distorted. Like it was echoing through someone else’s mouth before reaching the air. My hands were shaking, but not from fear alone. From resistance, from something pushing back inside me. Vorde’s fingers were still on my wrist. Still. And that was the only thing keeping me anchored.
Or maybe the thing is dragging me under.
I couldn’t tell anymore.
“You’re resisting incorrectly,” the system said through both of us at once. That hit hard. Not because it was loud.
Because it was everywhere.
Inside him, inside me, inside the space between us. Viole stepped forward fast. “Veronica, it’s no longer just merge; it’s cross-sync cognition.” “I don’t care what you call it,” I snapped, but my voice broke at the end.
