Etched into the pale skin above Nicholas's chest was an intricate, jagged burn. It was gray and black, composed of impossible, non-Euclidean geometric angles that seemed to fold inward upon themselves when looked at directly. It looked like a miniature fractal of an obsidian web.
"It appeared twenty minutes after I stepped out of the VR pod," Nicholas said, his tone clinical, though the muscle in his jaw clenched tight.
"The medical droids told me it was a localized allergic reaction to the nutrient suspension fluid. Idiots. My family owns three medical conglomerates; I know what cellular necrosis looks like, and I know what ancient spatial branding looks like."
Nicholas buttoned his tunic back up, his eyes never leaving Creed's.
"So let's drop the charade, Class Captain. We didn't just fail an assessment. We were dragged somewhere else."
Creed stared at him for three full seconds. His mind raced at terrifying speed, processing the data.
