The hallway of the Aegis sub-level was a long, clinical tunnel of white light and humming conduits, but as I stepped out of my cell, the very atmosphere began to shift. The air grew heavy and thick with the scent of ozone and the unmistakable, sharp metallic tang of my own unrestrained magic. The Ghost Pack—those hollowed-out shells of the brothers and sisters I had once led through the forests of the Eastern Region—remained frozen in their kneelalong the walls, their heads bowed in a mockery of reverence.
The sight was more painful than any physical blow I had ever sustained. I walked slowly past the Beta, Kael’s younger brother, his neck grafted with silver-chrome plates that pulsed with a rhythmic, artificial blue light. His eyes, which had once been full of mischief and life, were no
