Morning light filtered through frost-laced windows, casting fractured gold across the stone walls of the throne suite. Amber sat at the edge of the cot, lacing her boots with quiet precision. Raven hadn't stirred.
A gentle chime echoed.
She turned.
Three med-drones hovered into the room, their scanners already blinking.
“Daily compatibility analysis initiated," one chirped.
Amber stood abruptly. “Wait—what are you analyzing?"
“Neurological resonance index between subject Sheel and Commander Blackfang," the drone replied. “Per protocol: post-integration evaluation."
“Integration?" Amber echoed.
The scanners swept red beams over her, then over Raven's resting form.
Seconds later, the lead drone let out a sharp beep. “Warning. Current harmonization threshold: 72.4%."
Amber's brow fu
