Pain.
That’s the first thing Zayn felt when he opened his eyes.
His body screamed in protest. His head throbbed with residual echoes of the Soul-Link. He could still hear Yanyu’s voice in his mind, a soft whisper like a memory not fully gone.
[SYSTEM NOTIFICATION]
Vital signs stabilized. Neural fusion decoupled. Quantum fatigue at 84%. Memory Vault access is now live.
He blinked against the white lights above him. He was in the med bay—clean, sterile, quiet.
A face hovered into view.
“Zayn?”
It was Tamara. She looked like hell—bruised, bandaged, but alive.
“Yanyu?” he rasped.
“Stable. Barely. She’s in recovery pod three. But you…” Her eyes searched his face. “You fused with her system. That’s suicide.”
Zayn sat up slowly. “Had no choice. Qin Ye would’ve killed us both.”
Tamara
