The slipstream snatched Elian the moment he crossed the airlock threshold. It was like being thrown into a freezing, invisible waterfall that tore at his clothes and lungs. The red-glowing Curator didn't see him coming. It was locked in a thermal-tracking loop, its focus entirely on the heat signature of the shuttle’s thrusters.
Elian slammed into the creature's obsidian back, his fingers digging into the gaps between the plating. The impact sent a jolt of pain up his arms, but he forced his hands to lock tight. The Curator let out a jagged, electronic hiss, its body convulsing as it felt the foreign weight. It began to spin, corkscrewing through the thin, ionized air to shake him off, but Elian was a part of the storm now. He tapped into the sync, his bio-electric field bleeding into the
