Two hours later, the war room is a crucible of controlled, tactical chaos.
I sit in the center of the quantum interface chair, a heavy, specialized halo resting on my white-and-black hair. The halo is connected via thick, braided cables to Morgan’s central console. Asher is sitting cross-legged on the floor beside me, his hands pressed flat against the linoleum, his eyes closed. Elara is sitting on the other side, her charcoal pencil flying across her sketchbook, mapping the emotional geometry of the target.
Kade stands in front of me, dressed in his heavy, black tactical gear. His left sleeve is pinned neatly to his chest. His right hand rests on the hilt of his thermal-bladed combat knife. General Croft stands beside him, her military bearing rigid, her eyes flashing with a fierce, pre
