The valley stretched ahead like a mouth ready to swallow them whole, trees leaning over the narrow road as though conspiring with the fog. Lena’s hands burned from gripping the wheel, knuckles white, yet every movement felt both instinctive and foreign. Adrian’s presence pulsed in her mind, silent but insistent, guiding her body with uncanny precision. Trajectory correction needed. Predictive analysis: optimal path 0.6 seconds ahead.
She hated it. Hated him. Hated that her body was no longer entirely hers, that each reflex, each micro-adjustment, was influenced by a force she could neither see nor resist. And yet, as the armored vehicle bounced over a patch of wet rocks, she had to admit — without him, they would not have survived. The chilling thought made her stomach twist. Survival had
