The desert wind didn't just howl anymore; it hummed in a frequency I could finally translate. Standing on the ridge with the Wolfe Ledger of Intent clutched to my chest, the world was no longer a collection of red rock and dust. It was a shimmering, translucent overlay of data. I could see the thermal signatures of the scorpions beneath the sand and the decaying satellite pings bouncing off the ionosphere. I could see the exact moment Ethan’s pupils dilated in terror.
Ethan stood five feet away, his body whole and his mahogany eyes wide with a realization that was worse than death. He reached out, his hand trembling, but he stopped before touching my arm. He could feel it—the static charge of the God in the Mountain now anchored in my skin.
"Grace?" he whispered. The word hit my sensors
