The deep medical lab is quiet, save for the rhythmic, mechanical hiss of the ventilator and the steady, rapid beeping of the cardiac monitor. The harsh, blue light of the quantum processors casts long, erratic shadows across the sterile walls.
Asher lies on the central cot, his small chest rising and falling in shallow, ragged breaths. The specialized neural-interface halo has been removed, leaving a faint, red indentation around his white-and-black hair. His face is pale, his lips slightly blue, and a fresh, dark smear of dried blood crusts beneath his left nostril.
I sit on the edge of the cot, my heavily bandaged hand resting gently on his forehead. My ribs ache with every shallow breath, the heavy tape shifting against my bruised skin, but the physical pain is entirely eclipsed by th
