Zeta stood in the center of the holding block, the silence ringing in his ears like a physical blow. Mara was a few feet away, her eyes wide as she registered his presence. She did not scream, though he could see the tremors running through her thin, pale hands. The room was still cold, the atmosphere heavy with the metallic tang of the deactivated detonators. He knew that any sound made in this space would be picked up by the audio sensors that blanketed the walls, but he had no need for spoken words. He closed his eyes, centering his focus on the neural interface that connected his brain directly to the facility’s local network.
He reached out, not to the system, but to the faint, erratic signature of Mara’s mind. It was a fragile beacon in the darkness, pulsating with anxiety and conf
