The escalation happens at 0200 hours.
I am sitting in the deep medical lab, watching Asher sleep. Kade is standing guard by the door, his right hand resting on the hilt of his tactical sidearm. The room is quiet, the only sound the steady, rhythmic beep of the heart monitor.
Then, the ping changes.
It is no longer a passive, rhythmic pulse. It is a sharp, violent spike of acoustic energy.
The lights in the lab flicker, casting long, erratic shadows across the sterile walls. The temperature drops ten degrees in a fraction of a second. The air smells of ozone and crushed ice.
Through the mate bond, I feel a sudden, sharp spike of cold, geometric static. It is not the echo of the programmable matter in Asher’s blood. It is the Formless, reaching out, trying to lock onto the Key.
Asher g
