The reflection in the Third Crown didn't just show General Vane; it showed the silver-haired woman’s hand trembling as she gripped the armrest of a high-tech command chair. For a dizzying second, Elara felt the phantom sensation of leather beneath her palms and the weight of a headset pressing against her temples.
The blue marble of Earth, the liquid brass, and the cold void of space began to flicker like a failing hologram.
"Which side of the glass?" Elara’s voice was a jagged rasp, echoing in two places at once. "I am the one who bled. I am the one who loved him!"
"Love is the most efficient binary code we ever wrote," the Grand Architect replied. His hand, still resting near her shoulder, felt heavy—not with malice, but with the crushing weight of a creator’s pride. "It ensures the s
