“Then do it slowly.”
Varek hauls him clear of falling debris. Jhor staggers toward me, blood streaking his thigh.
“Minor,” Jhor mutters before I can ask.
“Keep pressure on it.”
The ringing in my ears begins to fade.
And in its place?—
Voices.
“Reapers!”
“They bombed it!”
“Contain them!”
Alliance boots pound against broken flooring. Energy weapons hum as charge levels rise.
I straighten slowly.
Not fast. Not sudden.
Smoke shifts in slow currents around us. Sparks fall from severed conduits overhead.
I crouch again—not in submission, but beside a twisted fragment half-embedded in the floor. My fingers close around it.
The casing is scorched but intact enough to read.
Alliance manufacturing code etched along the inner seam.
I turn it in my palm.
The metal is still warm.
Varek steps close. “What do you see?”
“Alliance detonator housing.”
His jaw tightens. “And the energy?”
I close my eyes briefly and let my senses reach outward.
There—faint but present.
Our harmonic residue.
Clean.
Too clean.
I open my eyes.
“Layered,” I say quietly.
Varek leans closer. “Meaning?”
