Elias didn't move.
The floor under his feet still carried the echo of the blast—faint now, just a tight vibration in the soles of his boots. The hum of the system above him hadn't stopped. Too smooth. Too clean.
He glanced down the corridor. The pod quarters stretched out in both directions, half-lit by overhead strips that buzzed without rhythm. Shadows leaned hard against the walls, drawn long by flickering screens embedded in cracked metal panels. One of them blinked twice, then cut out.
His breath caught in his throat. Not from panic. Just... stuck.
The pod next to him had a dent near the lock strip. Burnt edges. No smoke.
His shard gave a pulse—dull, like it didn't know if it should be reacting yet. The beat of it sat heavy in his chest, slower than his own. Off rhythm. Unsettled.
